


Closing a Chapter

by sirius16, Willy_Wanker, zero_kun



Category: Gravity Falls, ParaNorman (2012)
Genre: Armpit Kink, Consensual Underage Sex, Content approved by SCAR, Eventual Smut, Gay Male Character, Homelessness, Horny Teenagers, Investigations, Large Cock, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Murder Mystery, Paranormal Investigator Dipper Pines, Paranormal Investigators, Parapines, Pit Licking, Porn With Plot, Post-Canon, Private Investigators, Puberty, Public Masturbation, Scent Kink, Scents & Smells, Shotacon, Sleep Groping, Somnophilia, Underage - Freeform, Underage Masturbation, Underage Sex, Underwear Kink, Voyeurism, Watersports, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2020-12-24 14:15:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21100805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirius16/pseuds/sirius16, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willy_Wanker/pseuds/Willy_Wanker, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zero_kun/pseuds/zero_kun
Summary: Norman travels to Gravity Falls to find answers about his ancient bloodline. Dipper and Mabel are suspicious of the new guy in town, is he a Gideon 2.0 they will have to investigate and find out.





	1. Lost but seeking

**Author's Note:**

> Zero: this will probably be my last Parapines stories please enjoy.
> 
> Sirius: this will be my first Parapines story as well as first story in general, so, again, please enjoy.

Norman hopped off the bus somewhere in the middle of the United States. He didn't quite know where he was himself, but he knew where he had to go. He pulled out a small crumpled piece of paper from his red hoodie pocket and unfurled it. 

It read two simple things: "Stanford Pines, Gravity Falls Oregon." They were his only clues to a man caught snooping around his centuries-old bloodline years ago. His town feared and hated him. Even his family disowned him, more so for being gay than for his ability. He thought solemnly maybe he could find salvation in a person that can understand him, but until then he just needed to survive. 

The day his family kicked him out, he vowed to embrace the name that all of his loved ones feared, "Prendergast". 

Norman Prendergast put on his hood and shoved his hands into his pockets. He kept his head down as he entered a convenience store.

He wandered the aisles for a bit, then murmured quietly. "Is the coast clear?" 

He nodded and began stuffing his hoodie with goods. Once he secured everything, he grabbed the cheapest bottle of cologne and brought it to the clerk. The spiky-haired teen rifled through his black jean pockets and placed a fist full of spare change onto the counter. He hastily swiped the extra change off the counter and left without so much as a thank you.

He was broke, but at least he had something to quell his hunger. His grandmother didn't like it but there wasn't really another option.

After three days of bus hopping and sleeping at the bus station, he had finally arrived. He peered up to look at an old water tower with the town's name alongside some graffiti. He breathed a sigh of relief but he still needed somewhere to stay. He wandered around the town, searching for a motel or something. He didn’t have much money, so he figured he’d end up having to stay at a cheap motel somewhere in the town. 

He went around the city, trying multiple cheap-looking motels, but none would let him stay— at least, not without asking too many questions. He kept wandering until he found an ad for a motel that claimed to be haunted and was looking for an exorcist. 

Norman hoped that he could offer his services as a medium in exchange for somewhere to stay. He made his way over to the motel, entered and approached the front desk.

“Whaddaya want, kid?” asked the weary-looking man pulling down his sunglasses behind the front desk.

“I heard you were looking for an exorcist”, Norman answered.

“You? An exorcist?” the large black man asked in disbelief after giving a hearty chuckle.

“Technically a medium,” Norman replied, “I can see and talk to ghosts, and, as such, I can help you with your haunting problem."

As he was speaking, many of the spirits in the motel started to gravitate towards Norman as they could feel an energy about him. When the man scoffed at his proposal he whispered "Plan B, Grandma?" 

Granny B pleaded with the spiritual residents to raise hell and her grandson would help them move on. And while many of them had no grudges, as many of them had passed due to suicide. They wouldn't need something to help them move on like bringing a murderer to justice for instance, they decided to take pity on the strange kid with the weirdly familiar aura. 

The ghosts started to kick up a fuss, tossing around loose papers, knocking down a few plants, rattling the vending machine, and acting as a general nuisance. Not enough to cause any real damage, but hopefully enough to freak out the clerk. However, despite the books flying, papers falling, fake plants rustling, the clerk, the former Sheriff Blubs, was not impressed.

“Pft, puh-lease,” he scoffed, utterly nonplussed. “This? This, this is nothing. This is an average day in Gravity Falls, even I can deal with this.”

“Grandmaaaa,” Norman urged, getting nervous that he may not get the position at all.

“I’ll help ye, boy” came a voice from the back.

The spirits and Norman turned around to find a gruff, older looking spirit, dressed in a Prussian Blue uniform and a hat with a metallic eagle symbol on it. The spirits gasped in shock, they had never seen this particular spirit take an interest in anything before. 

“Who are you?” Norman asked. Norman’s grandmother remained silent, but slightly nodded, she herself also curious about this stranger who, unlike the other spirits here, seemed to radiate with power.

“Aye, that doesn’t matter right now.” he declared softly, “what matters is who you are, me boy.”

“Me?” Norman asked, confused.

“Yes, you, boy,” the spirit replied. “It took me a while, but I figured out why your aura feels so familiar to me. You’re a Prenderghast, aren’t ye?”

“Y-yeah,” Norman stuttered, not having expected to run into anybody who knew about the Prenderghasts. Not in a place like this.

“Wait a minute,” Norman called out suddenly, “you wouldn’t happen to be Stanford Pines, would you?”

The spirit chuckled, and shook his head negatively, “Aye no, laddie, I—”

“So then,” Norman’s grandmother cuts in, “just how do you know about the Prenderghasts then?” she asked, suspiciously.

“It was another Prenderghast, like ye, who helped me find peace long ago,” he replied.

“Wait,” Norman cut in, “you said that you’d help me?”

“Aye,” the spirit replied.

“How are you gonna do that?” he asked, curiously.

“Well…” he began, as he started to glow brightly, “just watch!” he boomed, voice much louder than just a few seconds ago, producing an echo that bounced around the room.

A wind started to pick up. The papers that had been flying around were joined by books, as well as the plants and even the vending machine, among other things as the wind kicked them up into the air, swirling around in a vortex. Even items that were bolted down, like the front desk, threatened to tear off their hinges and join the other flying objects. 

“Wind?” Norman asked, confused, “but we’re inside.”

“Unless...” Norman began, turning to the spirit, “are you doing this?” he asked.

“Aye,” the spirit answered simply, “I’m going to help you out, Little Prenderghast.”

At this point, the few other people in the motel had started to come out of their rooms to see what the commotion was about and were shocked at what they saw. The scene was utter chaos, a vortex of books, papers, trees, even a vending machine just swirling around. The front desk clerk looked panicked, whilst some kid calmly stood at the center of the storm, as if it were his doing. Some took out their phones and began to stream what they were seeing.

Meanwhile, at this point, the clerk was shaking in his boots. “I thought I retired to get away from all this,” he muttered to himself, under his breath.

“OK! OK!” he yelled, “You can stay. You can have the job. Just please, deal with whatever’s causing all this.”

Norman made a show of calling out, “alright, spirit, I hear you, if you calm down we can talk.” As if on command, the vortex died down immediately, the formerly flying objects plummeting to the ground in response. 

“Here,” the still shook clerk said, tossing Norman a room key, “Your room number is 318. Your first month is on the house, for getting rid of that ghost.”

While Norman would have normally felt guilty about taking advantage of someone like that, he was too exhausted to care, giving a grateful nod before making his way to his room.

"Room 318," Norman muttered, as he turned the key to his new room in its lock, before entering and tossing his duffle bag of all his worldly possessions on to an old bed. Then, he walked over to the window and yanked open the dusty curtains. Peering outside, he saw that his room overlooked the public pool. He shrugged and looked on the bright side as he muttered to himself, "Free showers at least."

Norman smelled his armpits and whipped his head away. He reeked of B.O. but he was too tired to care. He collapsed onto the musty bed. "Sleep now, then help the ghosts move on, then shower," he muttered, as his eyes fluttered shut and his consciousness faded.


	2. Public showers are fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please make sure to comment and review.

The morning sun pierced through the slit in the curtains, right over the top of Norman's eyes. The powerful spirit from the previous night was hovering over him waiting for him to wake. Norman shot up out of bed, panicking, before remembering that he was the spirit who had helped him the previous night. "You said you met a Prendergast before me? Who? When? Where?!" he asked him, now fully awake.

The spirit dressed in a Union Civil War uniform lurched backward, taken aback by the sudden questioning. The spirit put up his hands and a surrendering fashion "Woah there! It was like 30 years ago. I can still remember that day clearly, it’s not every day you find someone who can talk to you that's...you know, alive," he said, shrugging. "She was nice, and although she was in a hurry, she still helped me figure out whatever happened to the bastard who killed me. She told me that she wasn't from around here and was headed over to a cabin on the outskirts of town to be studied for her condition by some kind of genius."

"That time matches up with when Stanford Pines was researching Agatha. Maybe he still lives in this cabin. Where was it?" He pleaded, desperate for answers.

"I don't know, me boy," the seaman lamented. "I just have one question, did we win?"

Norman looked up, puzzled. “Win what?” he asked, confused quirking a brow.

“The war, boy, the war,” the soldier cried.  
“The Civil War,” Grandma Babcock stage-whispered to Norman.

"Oh, yeah. Of course," he stated plainly. And with those words uttered, the Union soldier began to fade into the Afterlife much to Norman’s frantic dismay, "No, no, no! Come back! I need answers!!" he protested. 

“Oh well,” he huffed in resignation, “time to finally take that shower.”

But, to Norman’s distress, before he could head downstairs toward the showers, another spirit had phased through the wall, ready for his turn. 

“What do you want?” Norman asked. The new spirit simply gestured to a line that had formed, wanting to talk to the spikey-haired kid who could apparently talk to ghosts. Norman just sighed and rolled his eyes, acquiescing to putting his shower off, yet again, until after he took care of this. So, he turned to the spirit and began to council them and each one of the other lost souls one by one. After some time, the line had disappeared, and he had successfully satisfied every ghost that was there.

At some point, while he was working his way through the line of ghosts, the stiflingly hot room had become unbearable. He threw off his signature red hoodie, revealing a dirty, sweat-stained t-shirt underneath. He mentally noted to himself do laundry later. But first, he needed to cool off. 

Meanwhile, the Pines twins, having heard of the previous night's events, were questioning Blubs. They were executing a “good cop/bad cop” maneuver when Norman walked into the lobby with a small bag for his clothes.

"That's him," Blubs called out, extending a trembling index finger at Norman.

The two thirteen-year-olds swarmed the 12-year-old like flies on horseshit, or, more accurately, the mystery twins investigating a mystery. "So you're The Exorcist," said Mabel, in wonderment. "How'd you do it? Strings? Fans? Magnets!?" questioned Dipper, still skeptical of the “exorcist” claims.

Norman staggered back, not used to such attention, "Ahh! N-No comment," he stuttered, trying to push past them. 

"Oh come on! We've helped some spirits move on too," Mabel whined, actively holding herself back from stamping her feet in frustration, not wanting to appear immature.

"Are you a Prendergast?" Norman asked, curious as to how they’d managed to help spirits move on. ‘Are they like me?’ he thought.

"A what now?" Mabel asked, tilting her head slightly, completely at a loss.

"Why does that sound familiar?" Dipper muttered to himself whilst holding his chin. "You don't mean Poltergeist do you?”

“What? No, not Poltergeist, Prenderghast,” Norman replied, resisting the urge to throw his hands up in exasperation.

“Hmm, nope!” Mabel replied. Meanwhile, Dipper was still mulling over the name, trying to figure out where he had heard it before.

“Ah, never mind then,” Norman said. ‘Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy,’ he thought to himself. He made his way to the front desk to talk to the clerk.

“I’ve dealt with some of your ghost problems,” he told the dark-skinned man.

“That fast?” Blubs asked, pulling his shades down to the bridge of his nose for emphasis.

“Yeah,” Norman replied, “a lot of ghosts usually just want someone to listen to them.”

“Well, in that case, good job, kid,” the former sheriff said, approvingly. “Well, you’re free to do whatever now.”

“Oh yeah,” the clerk answered, “I forgot to mention it to you last night, but the rooms don’t have showers here. But there are showers down here, and there’s even a pool next door, if you ever feel like going swimming.”

Dipper was intrigued, even fascinated by how nonchalantly this new kid talked about chatting with ghosts. Sure, the new kid was probably lying, but what if he wasn’t. After all, something big did happen here, and the new kid was almost certainly involved somehow. Plus, what the kid said matched up pretty well with what he had experienced with spirits himself.

Mabel nudged Dipper, “So, that new kid is pretty interesting, huh?” she asked him. “You think he’s for real?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Dipper replied, “but I intend to find out,” he finished, making his way towards the front desk, where Norman was.

“So new kid, you never answered our question—” Dipper started before Norman cut him off.

“And you didn’t exactly answer mine, either,” he replied, ready to move on from this encounter. "Now, if you would excuse me, I'm going to go for a dip," he said, slightly irritated by the interruption, and pushed past the two. 

Norman walked out of the motel and over to the public pool next door, quickly making his way to the locker room. The cement floor was wet, and the whole place smelled of mildew and bleach... but at least it had working showers. He dropped his bag on the old wooden bench, and sitting down next to it, he lifted his shirt over his head, revealing his thin frame that his baggy hoodie usually hid from view. 

He was taking off his old shoes and sweaty socks when Dipper entered the locker room and sat down across from him. Norman slammed his shoes onto the bench on the other side of him. "I'm not going to answer any questions!" he yelled, annoyed, close to losing his temper after such a trying and exhausting week.

"Wasn't going to, my sister and I were going to go for a swim after finding out what happened anyway," Dipper said shrugging.

“Oh I’m sure,” Norman replied sarcastically, not at all believing Dipper, but too tired to fight it out with him. “Whatever, do what you want, as long as you don’t bother me.”

Dipper began to take his clothes off to change into his trunks, all the while trying his best to keep from staring.

Norman, still wary about Dipper’s intentions, continued to strip too. He was aware of Dipper’s staring but was too tired to care, and besides, it was better to be stared at than interrogated. He began to slowly unbutton his black skinny jeans and stood up so that he could shimmy out of them.

Dipper wasn’t sure why he couldn’t stop staring at the new kid. ‘Because you want to see what he looks like naked—No! It’s purely professional curiosity’ he reasoned to himself. Yet, as Norman continued to lower his pants, he found that he couldn’t look away.

Norman picked on up this. “See something you like?” he quipped sarcastically, “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“I was j-just observing you, that’s all,” Dipper frantically explained.

“While I’m taking off my pants?” Norman shot back disbelievingly.

Dipper flushed and turned away, skin turning a brilliant red. ‘Cute,’ Norman thought to himself.

After the moment had passed, Norman took off his boxers, moving to find a towel.

Dipper had figured that the coast was clear and turned back around to “observe” Norman, only to be flashed by Norman’s dick before Norman found a towel and to Dipper’s disappointment, wrapped it around his waist, covering himself up.

Norman didn’t notice any of this, but when he turned to face Dipper again, he noticed that Dipper was still fully dressed. "Thought you were going for a swim, aren't you a little overdressed?" Norman observed, pointing out that Dipper had yet to take off any of his clothing. 

Dipper noticed his mistake and rapidly stripped to his underwear, not noticing that his "reconnaissance" had caused a stirring in his loins. Norman, however, did take notice of the bulge that was straining his trunks. “I’m going to take a shower,” he announced to Dipper. “You may want to consider a cold shower yourself. To take care of that,” he quipped, pointing to the protrusion in Dipper’s briefs.

At this point, it seemed Dipper’s face couldn’t get any redder as his blush intensified. Norman then walked towards the showers, leaving a stuttering Dipper in his wake. Dipper snapped out of it and followed Norman to the showers.

Upon reaching the showers, Norman sighed. Sure, he knew he wouldn’t get too much privacy, having to share the showers with other motel residents and pool-goers, but he thought he’d at least get a shower stall or something, not…this, a wall with a bunch of shower faucets sticking out of them at regular intervals with drains on the floor. “This motel really is cheap,” he grumbled to himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that his newfound stalker had just followed him into the showers. ‘Wow,’ he thought, ‘I have a full-on stalker now,’ but he instead opted to just focus on finally taking that shower, as opposed to his new… ‘friend’.

Dipper slipped into the shower area and made his way to the adjacent shower space, right next to Norman. Norman, again, notices this, but chose not to comment, and instead decides to place his towel on the rack at the opposite side of the shower area, before re-approaching the faucet and turning it on, ready to begin his shower.

Dipper was openly ogling Norman, hoping to catch another glimpse, but he turned around after Norman hung his towel so that he wouldn’t catch him staring. Dipper had already hung his own towel and so he also turned on his faucet and prepared to begin his shower.

After their respective showers had warmed up to the right temperature, they stepped under and began their showers. Both boys took time to embrace the feeling of the water running over themselves before Norman began to wash himself properly, taking advantage of the crappy, but complimentary body wash and shampoo.

Norman closed his eyes and began showering, starting with thoroughly shampooing his spiky hair. Dipper took the opportunity to continue his “observations”, taking notice of the fact that despite its spiky look, it could be flattened down, like normal hair. After Norman finished, he then rinsed his hair and then began to work on the rest of his body, paying Dipper no mind.

Dipper continued his “observations” as Norman lathered himself up, Dipper not even bothering to try and hide his interest. Not that Norman saw any of this, his mind focused on the task of washing himself.

He scrubbed most of his body vigorously, saving his dick for last, trying to rub off all the dirt and grime and sweat that had accumulated over those days traveling. When he got to his dick, he took more gentle care of it, stroking it softly. By this point, Norman, who was still mentally fatigued from his journey, had completely tuned out the rest of the world, so when his dick started stirring in response to his ministrations, he thought little of it as he began to absentmindedly stroke himself, realizing how pent up he’d become after abstaining for the past week.

But while Norman had tuned out the rest of the world, Dipper most certainly hadn’t, and watched with utter surprise and rapt attention as Norman just rubbed one out right there in front of him! And while Dipper was still hard from when Norman had flashed him earlier, he became even harder at the sight and had subconsciously reached down and started stroking himself in concert.

'Damn, he's a shower, and a grower?' Dipper thought in disbelief, amazed at the fact that Norman's dick somehow got bigger when it was hard. ‘That thing is huge,’ he thought to himself, almost in awe. ‘Wonder what it would taste like or feel like inside me,’ he pondered, stroking himself even faster.

With Norman having been pent up for a week, and Dipper hard as steel and rapidly stroking himself to completion, neither of the boys were going to last much longer. Norman came first with a soft moan, his dick erupting akin to that of a hose. Dipper stared, once again in disbelief, for the third time since entering the showers, as Norman let out a torrent of semen, bringing Dipper to the edge.

‘I wonder what it would smell like,’ Dipper thought, but before he could even begin to contemplate what he had just thought, he came, much harder than he had in a while.

After Norman had ridden out his orgasm, he slowly regained his senses and noticed that Dipper had came, and then noticed that he had also jerked himself off. He proceeded to finish his shower without a word, rinsing himself off and then turning off the faucet.

He walked over to where his towel was and dried himself off, before wrapping it around his waist. He then started to walk back to his locker where the rest of his stuff was. Before he could pass Dipper, who was still stuck in his post-orgasm bliss, he took the opportunity to return the favor and check Dipper out. He was a couple of inches shorter than Norman, though likely a bit older. His usually soft and fluffy looking hair was matted down by the water. He had a lean but slightly toned build, compared to Norman’s lankier build. Now that he had showered and gotten off, he was much less cranky and was in a better mindset, one that allowed him to appreciate how cute the guy was, especially with that silly post-orgasm face on him. 

'He's not half bad,' Norman thought to himself, 'definitely wouldn't mind hooking up with him if I had the chance.'

"Looks like you ended up taking my advice," he called out to Dipper, before continuing over to the lockers. Dipper snapped out of his post-orgasm haze and realized what he had just done. He immediately turned off his faucet, grabbed his towel from the back, and wrapped it around him, only taking a few seconds to dry himself off, before rapidly changing into his trunks and running to the pool as fast as he could, still being mindful of the slippery floor.

'Huh, first he stalks me, now he can't get away from me fast enough,' Norman thought, puzzled, before shrugging and continuing to get dressed. ‘Weird guy, but cute though.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this perhaps you would like other content that scar has produced check out our collection here on AO3.


	3. Mysteries Are Easy, People Not So Much

Mabel sat on a blanket in a grassy area next to the pool, noticing her brother in the corner of her eye. She waved him over and immediately picked up on his odd, flustered behavior and that he was out of breath as he came up and sat on the blanket. Her eyes darted to the boys' entrance as Norman was entering and then back to her clearly flustered brother, rosy cheeks and all. "What did you two do, fuck?" She jeered with a twinge of jealousy to her voice.

"No!" He shrieked, voice cracking in the process, face on fire.

"Uh-huh, so why's your face so red then?" she prodded jeeringly, donning an unfriendly sneer.

"Um…well...you see," Dipper sputtered before Mabel raised her hand to cut him off. 

"You know what, nevermind, save it," she replied, cutting him off. Her mood had soured. She stood and adjusted the girls and ran off diving into the pool, leaving a still stuttering Dipper alone.

After Dipper ran out of the changing area, Norman finished drying himself off. He slipped into a pair of plain black boxers, grabbed his towel and made his way to the pool. He gave himself a mental reminder to buy swim trunks at some point, not having packed any before he ran away.

He entered the pool area and looked around before he spotted Dipper and Mabel. Without acknowledging either of the two, Norman was about to make his way to another part of the pool before he noticed that Mabel had briefly turned to point at him before facing Dipper again, as well as Dipper's increasingly flustered face. Then he saw Mabel adjusting herself before storming off to the diving board. 

Curious, Norman abandoned his original plan and walked towards Dipper. 

"What was that about?" he asked once he was within hearing range of Dipper. 

Dipper jumped at the question, having been lost in his thoughts, and turned around, only to meet the curious face of the object of his thoughts. His blush returned in full force and he looked down, not wanting to meet Norman's face. As he looked down, he noticed that Norman was not wearing swimming trunks and was only clad in a pair of boxer shorts. However, he also noticed that the dark color of the boxers made it hard for him to see any outline, a realization that elicited a twinge of disappointment. 

He kept staring at Norman's boxers, oblivious to Norman's attempts to gain his attention until Norman tapped him on the shoulder, startling him again and bringing Dipper's gaze back up to Norman's face. 

"Huh?" Dipper asked. 

"Wow, you sure do space out a lot, huh?" Norman asked with a slight chuckle, "I was asking you about that thing with your sister earlier."

"Oh, that? Nothing." Dipper responded, not wanting to divulge the actual subject of their conservation. 

"But your sister pointed at me and then stormed off in the other direction, were you guys talking about me?" Norman continued. 

"I have no idea what her deal was," Dipper responded, partially being truthful as he had no idea what was going on with Mabel. 

"Hmm, alright then," said Norman. Although not satisfied with Dipper's answers, he figured that that was all he would get out of him.

Besides, the pool was calling his name anyway. So he walked away to a remote area of the pool. There were only a few people besides him and the twins at the pool, giving him the opportunity to find his own corner of the pool to enjoy in peace. 

Dipper went to the area of the pool that was nearest to the pool and got in, swimming around for a while. Eventually, Mabel came up to him, now in a better mood, and they decided to head home. 

A little while after this, Norman had finished with the pool for the day and decided to head back to his room. After taking another, quicker shower, and putting on a fresh set of clothes for the first time in days, he went back to the motel and headed up to his room. 

As he entered his room, he was hit by the smell of fresh linen and air freshener. He walked over to his freshly made bed and found a note, informing him that his bedsheets had been cleaned and his bed turned down, as a courtesy service to thank him for his help with the ghosts earlier. 

'Well then, that's one less thing to take care of, at least,' Norman thought to himself. 

With the bed looking so inviting and with nothing else to do for the day, he decided to turn in early for the night, deciding to get started on his mission to learn more about the Prenderghasts the next day. He stripped down into his boxers, turned off the lights, and got into bed. 

As he lay in bed, he got to thinking. Now that Norman had a place to stay, he needed to figure out a source of income to live on and not steal the things he needed. He placed a hand to his chin and pondered the possibilities. He shifted his position on his bed. However, there was a sense of urgency about him, he was already following a decades-old trail but he had a lead. He huffed at the prospect of public resources being all he had at his disposal. 

For a normal boy his age, all of the things on his plate would be completely overwhelming, but if it wasn't for one quality about him that he thanks the grace of the afterlife for, it was his ability to remain calm under pressure and think things through for the most part. "One step at a time, Norman," he told himself. "Do laundry first then find something to eat and then see what you can dig up in the nice, air-conditioned library."

"I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for," Grandma Babcock reassured Norman from near the nightstand. "I'll be around if you need me, the decor in this place is hideous even by my standards." 

Norman chuckled and watched his grandmother phase through the floor, right through a tacky 70s style carpet, "Ok Grandma,". If there were two things he could depend on his grandma for, it would be that she always has his back and brings a smile to his glum face.

As the twins arrived back at the Mystery Shack, they were greeted by Wendy who was manning the register. Soos heard all the commotion and came out.

"Hey dudes," he greeted, "how was the investigation?" 

"Hey Wendy, hey Soos," the twins greeted in unison. 

"We found the source of the source of the paranormal phenomenon last night, it was just some kid," Dipper continued. 

Mabel's mood soured again. "I'm going to bed," she declared, a noticeable frown on her face. 

"What was that all about?" asked Wendy.

"Little dudette seemed pretty angry," Soos chimed in. 

"I don't know, but I'm gonna find out," Dipper said, growing concerned. 

'This is the second time she's been like this today,' he mused. 

Dipper walked down to Mabel's room, formerly the secret room. They no longer shared the room in the attic, as they had outgrown sharing a room. He knocked on the door. The door was decorated as one would expect, with various stickers and splashes of glitter. 

"Yeah?" Mabel called out, noticeably grumpy. 

"You OK?" he inquired, "you've been acting weird since the pool." 

"Go away," she called out, "I don't wanna talk about it."

Dipper sighed in resignation, realizing he wasn't going to get much from Mabel. He decided to try the next day. 

"OK, see you tomorrow," he responded through the door. He waited for a few seconds for Mabel's response, but when none came, he gave up and headed up to his room in the attic. 

While Mabel's room was decorated to the max, with stickers and glitter and posters of boy bands she liked, Dipper took a more utilitarian approach, plastering the walls with all kinds of maps and charts, all pertaining to various supernatural phenomena he had encountered or learned about as he continued his research to unravel the many mysteries of Gravity Falls. He had long ago pushed his bed to the corner of his room to make room for his giant conspiracy board and his workspace and desks were a seeming mess of organized chaos, that he alone could understand. 

Dipper entered his room, but instead of making his usual beeline to his desk, he decided that he'd maybe go to his bed, on the opposite side of the room, and turn in early, too mentally worn out from whatever was going on with Mabel as well as that 'Poltergeist' kid. 

'Oh yeah, that "Poltergeist" kid,' Dipper internally mused to himself, while, unbeknownst to him, his dick had a slight twitch at the thought. Mabel's sudden weird and funky mood had pushed the 'Poltergeist' kid out of mind until that moment. 

Dipper's skin started to itch, his skin's reaction to the chlorine reminding him that he had yet to shower after having been in the pool. He stripped naked, flinging his clothes in the general direction of his pile of dirty clothes to the corner of his room furthest from the door, and showered. After finishing his shower, he put on his night pants and then continued to get ready for bed.

After he finished, he flopped down on his bed, looking directly up at the ceiling, thinking about the day he had. He started by thinking of whatever could’ve been wrong with Mabel, but quickly abandoned that line of thought as it became too depressing. So he opted to focus on the mystery of the ‘Poltergeist’ kid, much to the interest of his dick, though he again didn’t notice.

‘Wait, no, not “Poltergeist”, “Prenderghast,”’ Dipper reflected, remembering that what Norman had told him earlier. ‘But where have I heard that name before?’ He continued to mull the name over as he drifted off to sleep.


	4. It's a (Tourist) Trap!

Norman began the day by dragging his heavy duffle bag down to the dank basement of the seedy motel. His bag of clothes made a thud with each step he went down. The laundry room was dimly lit by a single lightbulb hung from the ceiling. His eyes darted to the far side of the small room picking up on movement, he nearly gagged at the thought of a rat scurrying underneath some shelving. 

He walked up to the washer machine, opening the rusty lid and tossing the entire contents of his duffle bag into it. He squeezed in a bottle of hand soap and a travel-sized bottle of hand sanitizer. He shrugged, depressed, it was all he had, but it would have to do. 

He was happy to have a clean change of clothes soon, however, a painful pang of hunger hitting him as his stomach growled soon quelled that happy thought. 

He opened the dryer to get it ready for his clothes and his face lit up, and reaching his long arm to the back of the dryer, he pulled out a five-dollar bill. Maybe things were turning around for him?

After finishing with the laundry, Norman was ready to head out and begin his search. He left his room, locking the door behind him, to go down to the front desk. When he got to the lobby, he made a beeline for the front desk, hoping that the clerk could point him in the direction of any library nearby. After receiving directions from the clerk, he thanked him and made his way to the library.

Before he could leave the motel, his stomach growled once more, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since arriving at Gravity Falls. Remembering his recently acquired five dollars, Norman looked around, hoping to spot a vending machine with snacks in it.

And it would seem that Norman’s luck was continuing. On the side of the lobby that was opposite from the front desk, there was a vending machine. Norman strode over to the vending machine and inserted his $5, getting two granola bars. While not a fan of the taste, Norman figured that beggars can’t be choosers, having decided on the granola bars because they were the cheapest item, allowing him to purchase two of them.

Norman headed down to the library while eating the granola bar, taking his time so he could savor the experience of eating again. He finished the bar upon arriving at the library and threw the empty wrapper away before heading inside. He resolved that he would save the other bar for later, as he didn’t know when the next time he’d eat would be.

He walked into the library, eager to begin researching, the prospect of finally making progress lifting his mood for the first time in a week. Norman figured that the best place for him to start looking was with a map of the town, hopefully, he’d be able to find one that pointed out all of the cabins. Norman spotted the librarian and figured that she was a pretty good place to begin his search.

“Excuse me, but would you happen to have a map of the city, preferably one that points out all the cabins?” Norman asked the librarian.

“Oh, of course, I’ll have my assistant show you to the map room,” the librarian replied.

“Thank you!” he responded.

The librarian called an assistant to help escort Norman to the room where they kept the maps. The assistant guided Norman to the map room and brought out maps of the town and placed them on the table.

“Please return the maps when you’re finished with them,” said the assistant librarian, before she turned around and headed back to the desk. “OK,” Norman responded.

Norman started by pouring over a map of Gravity Falls. He took note of areas he found significant but quickly ran into trouble as he realized that there were quite a few cabins in Gravity Falls. ‘Looks like this won’t be as easy as I thought it would be,’ he mused. After a few minutes of this, Grandma Babcock quickly grew bored of watching over Norman as he did his research, so she left the map room and roamed around the library. 

After about two hours of pouring over the maps, Norman was stuck. ‘There are so many cabins, it’ll take me forever to visit them all. If only I could narrow it down some more.’ he thought, frustrated at his failure to make any meaningful progress in his mind. 

Although he had eaten earlier, he was still hungry, making it hard for him to think. However, despite his hunger, he refused to eat the second bar so soon after the first, as he still didn’t know when he’d have food next. 

Meanwhile, the assistant librarian was thinking about Norman, wondering what was so intriguing that he had remained there for hours, without a peep. Part of her was worried about the constant growling she heard whenever she passed by near the map room. ‘That boy is so skinny,’ she mused, ‘he must not be eating regularly’.

She decided that she would go and check on Norman, so she made her way to the map room. Once she reached the map room, she opened the door and peered inside to see that Norman had passed out. ‘He must’ve collapsed from hunger,’ she reckoned, ‘the poor thing.’

‘I know, I’ll get the boy something to eat, a cookie from down the street, maybe,’ she reasoned. Her mind made up, the librarian went out to buy a fresh cookie from the bakery down the street, telling the head librarian that she’d be back. 15 minutes later, she returned to the library, making a beeline for the map room to give Norman the cookie. She approached Norman and gently shook him awake.

Norman awoke with a start. “Easy there, it’s just me, the assistant librarian,” the assistant librarian soothed, “no need to be alarmed.”

“Oh,” Norman replied simply, “what are you doing here? Do I need to put the maps away? Do I need to leave?” he asked in a panic.

“No, nothing like that,” she reassured, “stay here as long as you like. No, I just noticed you passed out earlier, and your stomach has been growling non-stop for the past hour. So I thought that I would bring you this,” she said, taking a wrapped, fresh-baked cookie out of the bag.

“I know it’s not much and I didn’t know what flavor you liked, so I just got you plain,” she elaborated.

“No, thank you, that’s plenty,” Norman replied, before tearing open the cookie wrapper and slowly eating the cookie.

“So,” the assistant librarian begins “what are you working on here, what are you looking for, maybe I can help?” she asks.

“Well,” Norman began, halting his consumption of the cookie as he thought about whether or not to divulge the information, ultimately deciding that she was a librarian and even went out of her way to bring him a cookie, so it couldn’t hurt too bad. “I’m looking for a cabin that belongs to a certain someone, one from around 30 years ago? Do you know how I could go about doing that? I’m kinda stuck right now.”

“Hmm, let’s see,” answered the librarian, “well, if  _ I _ were trying to locate someone’s cabin from 30 years ago, I would use...” she continued, getting up to rummage through a bin of older looking maps. “Ah-ha, here we go, this! A map of the cabins of Gravity Falls from 30 years ago, that ought to help you narrow things down.”

“Oh, wow, you’re right, that’s a good idea, thank you,” Norman verbalized.

“You’re welcome, it was no trouble at all,” the librarian replied, “actually, hold on,” she said, before getting up, leaving the map room, headed towards a different section of the library, before Norman could say anything else.

She returned with a giant phone book and slammed it down on the table, “there you go,” she declared, “an old address book. We discontinued them years ago, but we still have all the old ones. If you know the name of the person, try looking them up here, should help you narrow it down even further.”

Norman thanked the assistant librarian again before she left to continue her work around the library, leaving Norman alone with the new maps and address book.

After a few more hours, Norman had finally narrowed the location of Stanford Pines’ cabin down.

‘The Mystery Shack,’ Norman thought to himself, frowning at the thought of the cabin having been converted into a tourist trap. ‘Still,’ he thought, ‘it’s better than having no lead at all, guess I’ll check it out anyway,’. And with that thought, Norman had concluded his research for the day. He called out for his grandma’s ghost in a whisper, as he was ready to leave the library. 

Once he reunited with his grandma, he left the library and headed back to the motel, ready to take a shower, and go to bed.

Fetching a clean set of clothes, Norman hung his head low on his way to the public showers, still down about the fact that the cabin once owned by Stanford Pines had been converted into some tacky tourist trap, his hopes diminishing with every passing thought of the likely dead end. He sighed, depressed at the prospect of his trail going cold much like the shower water he was combing through his long spiky black hair. Goosebumps dotted his pale flesh, his stomach rumbled once again. He eyed up his bag from the showers, the granola bar inside would be gone before he reached his room. 

The lanky twelve-year-old pressed his forehead up against the cold tile and muttered, "I need money for food," he then finished his shower dried off and got dressed into a plain T-shirt and sweatpants.

Norman had a mouthful of granola before entering the lobby, tossing the wrapper in the trash, he made his way up to his room. He jumped on his bed, bouncing slightly on the stiff unused piece of furniture. He picked up the remote to the old TV on the dresser across from the bed.

He pressed the power button on the remote and the fat TV clicked on. Norman flicked through the channels boredly before finding something that caught his interest.

"Several murders in Gravity Falls have the local police baffled, stay tuned for more at eleven." Said the news anchor, Shandra Jimenez, hands neatly folded.

Norman checked the time, ‘10:52,’ he thought to himself, ‘well, might as well see what this about,’ he figured. 

At eleven o’clock, the newscast began again. “Welcome to KLSR-TV, I’m your faithful anchor, Shandra Jimenez. Once again, we’re bringing you updates on the latest murder spree that’s been gripping everyone here with fear. Now then, coming to you live from the Gravity Falls PD, our reporter Toby has more.”

The feed on the TV then switched from the newsroom to the Gravity Falls Police Department. “Thanks, Shandra,” he began, “Toby Determined here, coming to you live from Gravity Falls PD.”

“Thanks, Toby, any updates?” Shandra asked formally.

“Well Shandra, police continue to be utterly bemused by the recent string of murders. But after weeks of working on this case without any leads, they’re considering opening up this case to the public for clues.” Toby reported.

“Oh wow, really? Seems a little dangerous for civilians to handle, don’t you think?” Shandra pressed.

“That’s right, Shandra, which is why the police are also offering a substantial  _ cash reward _ of <insert cash reward here> for anyone who comes forward with any clues that lead to the criminal or  _ criminals _ ’ capture.” Toby finished.

“Oh wow!” Shandra exclaimed, “This is huge! You heard it here first folks, the police are offering a cash reward of <insert cash reward here> to anyone who can offer any information leading to the capture of the murderers.”

At that moment, somebody off-screen handed Shandra some papers. “Uh-huh, thank you,” she said to the offset hand. “This just in, if you have any tips you’d like to share, please report them to the police tip hotline at  503-557-0149, or simply go directly to the station. From  KLSR-TV, this is Shandra Jimenez, signing off,” she said, ending the broadcast. 

Grandma Babcock's ethereal body passed through TV, causing the screen to be enveloped in a cloud of static, a look of genuine excitement on her face. "Hun, maybe you can help the murder victims, I overheard some of the librarians talking about them, You know, use your  _ special gift _ ."

“Well, I always  _ have  _ wanted to use my powers to help people...” Norman began.

“And you also need the money. You get to use your powers to help people and make some money on the side, it’s a perfect win-win!” Grandma Babcock finished excitedly.

“Huh, I guess you’re right, grandma,” Norman admitted. After thinking over it a little, he had made up his mind. “Alright, I’ll do it,” he decided, “just another mystery to solve, I can handle this,” he reasoned.

And with that thought and goal in mind, Norman decided to head to sleep. He stripped down to his boxers, turned off the lights and TV, got in bed, and drifted off to sleep, his disappointment about the fate of Stanford’s cabin temporarily pushed out of his mind by his thoughts about this new mystery.

  
  



	5. Murders, and Mysteries, and Extortions, Oh My

Light from the sun permeated through the window of the Mystery Shack's attic, directly shining in Dipper's eyes. He tried desperately to avoid the light by rolling over, but quickly realized it was a futile battle and resigned himself to waking up. He sluggishly got out of bed. 

Mabel was already up eating her breakfast, kindly prepared by Melody. She felt off—maybe it was hormones, or maybe she was under the weather. Either way, she didn't want to be a burden on Dipper and put a damper on their second summer at Gravity Falls. "Hey, Bro Bro! Get a good night's sleep?" She asked, concerned by the bags underneath his eyes. 

"Just fine," he stammered sitting down recalling the real reason why he stayed up all night, "What, no sprinkles on your pancakes this time? You feeling alright?"

"Ah…"

"Hey! Dudes, you guys hear about this serial killer in Gravity Falls?" Soos interrupted from the doorway. Both twins instantly perked up at this, intrigued. 

"No?" Mabel said scooching to the edge of her seat, eyes practically sparkling like her glitter.

"Go on," Dipper prompted a glimmer in his eye, arching an eyebrow in curiosity. 

"So apparently this guy has killed, like, four people in the past month, dudes this is super serious! Be careful," the man-child warned, putting on his fez ready for another day of showmanship.

Both Mabel and Dipper looked at each other—a mystery was afoot, and they were going to solve it. "Hey, if we could handle a millennium-year-old dream demon, we can handle some serial killer, right?!" He said to his sister, with all the bravado of a thirteen-year-old.

Mabel nodded and smiled.

Later that day, after some Grade-A detective work, the mystery twins were on the trail of the husband of the most recent victim. The night was brisk and the two sleuths shadowed the man from his work. His dress shoes stomped heavily on the sidewalk as Mabel and Dipper slinked from street light to building, following him from about a block away.

* * *

Meanwhile...

Norman had just finished his own investigation into the murder. The investigation was almost childishly simple. Turns out ghosts are horrible gossips and were more than happy to give Norman plenty of information about the murder, though, to Norman’s chagrin, not much of it was accurate. But he was able to use the information he got from their gossiping to lead him to the murder victims, who, Norman figured, would have more accurate information about the murders.

Upon finding the murder victims, he managed to piece together the story. He noticed that all the victims were male, except for the final victim, who was a woman, and who turned out to be the murderer’s wife. With the stories of the victims, the gossip from the ghosts, and information from the friends of the final victim, Norman was able to deduce that the murderer had suspected his wife was cheating on him and killed both the men he suspected his wife was cheating on him with and then finally, his wife.

He relayed his findings to the ghosts, who, when presented with the evidence, agreed with Norman’s findings. Norman vowed to the victims that he would bring the murderer to justice and that he wouldn’t let him get away with his crimes. With that assurance, the victims’ ghosts were satisfied and they were finally able to peacefully move on.

After they moved on, Norman gathered all the evidence he gathered, as well as his conclusions, and put them into an envelope. He was going to mail it to the police and then head over to the Shack when his stomach growled. 

‘I really need to get some money soon, so that I can eat,’ Norman mused to himself. At that moment, he came up with a crazy and incredibly risky idea to get some money quickly. He decided that he would directly confront the murderer and see if he couldn’t scare a little money out of him.

With a little research and more gossip from around town, Norman was ready. He positioned himself in the shadows of a dark alleyway, waiting. The street he was on was directly in between the husband's work and home of the woman who was murdered about a week prior. He had already helped her pass on by assuring her he would give the authorities evidence to convict her husband for causing her untimely demise.

The night was overcast, and a light drizzle began to fall. Moonlight pierced the ominous clouds as he heard footsteps draw closer. Norman already turned in the evidence needed to convict the murderer, but he knew bureaucratic nonsense would take days if not weeks to act upon it. The reward money would come, but it would take a while and he needed money now, or he would surely starve. 

A shadowy figure quickly walked past the entrance to the alley that was his cue. Norman started to walk behind the man, who wore a trench coat. "Hey! Are you the husband of the woman who was killed?" Norman shouted, his hood covering most of his face with his hands buried deep into his hoodie pockets. 

The man stopped in his tracks and turned, "Yeah. What are you a reporter? I already told that Toby guy to fuck off... wait, you're just a kid," the man scoffed, continuing on his way. 

“That’s not important, just please answer the question” Norman replied, trying to project confidence in his voice. 

“Hmm, Nah, buzz off, kid,” the man said, waving Norman away dismissively, “whatever it is you’re trying to pull here, I’m not interested.”

However, Norman remained undeterred, as he knew walking into this that it wouldn’t be easy. “Sir, I just want to know if this woman was your wife,” Norman pressed again, now brandishing a picture of the victim in front of his face.

“Yeah, she was my wife, what about it?” The man asked, steadily growing irritated with the interrogation.

“Did she have any enemies? Anyone with a grudge against her? Someone that may have had a motive to kill her?” Norman asked, shooting off the questions in rapid succession.

“What is this, the Inquisition, or something? No, I have no idea who would want to kill her. Now I’m busy, kid, so beat it,” the man replied, growing even more agitated.

“Wanna know what I think?” Norman asked, his posture and expression neutral.

“Not really, no,” the man replied.

“I think,” Norman continued, ignoring his objection, “that it had to be someone close to her, someone, with a key, so they could get in the house without forcing their way in."

“Maybe the dude was good at picking locks, who knows?” the man returned, apprehension starting to seep in and mix with his irritation.

“Hmm, well I think you know, actually,” Norman retorted, becoming more confident as he reached the climax of his interrogation. ‘This is it,’ he thought, ‘make or break time.’

“After all, your wife was found,” he continued, voice crescendoing to a peak, "In the basement with your unregistered revolver..." Norman declared confidently.

The shadowy figure snapped. He turned around and rushed at Norman, gripping him up by the front of his hoodie and slamming him hard against the brick wall. "How do you know that it was a revolver, the police and news always just said it was from a gunshot wound?" 

Norman kept calm and a straight face but on the inside was panic as his feet dangled, "I know a lot of things, like your mistress, but I'll keep quiet for a price," Norman said, smirking confidently. 

The husband pulled out a knife and pressed it against Norman's throat, "I get a better idea…I could just kill you too," the man said menacingly.

Grandma Babcock watched the scene nervously, wishing she could do something to help her grandson, when suddenly, all three parties were distracted by the sound of a trash can being knocked over, giving Norman Prenderghast a little time to think.

"I wouldn't do that, I have a friend that will go straight to the police if I were to die," he bluffed and lied straight through his teeth. 

The man grimaced and dropped Norman, proceeding to dig into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and with it all of the money he had on him, throwing it at the boy before storming off.

Norman's heart was racing, but he did it. He wiped the cold sweat and light rain off of his forehead and quickly gathered all of the bills in front of him. He started to sprint back to the motel with adrenaline pumping through his veins, and ran and ran as fast as his long legs could carry him. 

He dashed through the lobby without a word and darted up the stairs, slamming open his door he entered the room breathlessly.

As Norman was catching his breath, Grandma Babcock, began to tear into Norman.

“What were you thinking!?” she asked with a shout.

“Well,” Norman began, heavily panting as his lungs still weren’t getting the oxygen they needed. He leaned against the wall for support and pointed upwards, giving the universally understood gesture for “just a minute” while he caught his breath. “I knew that I couldn’t just wait on the system for the money. So I figured I’d take matters into my own hands and get some money myself. Besides, he’s a murderer, it’s not like taking his money was a bad thing...” Norman finished.

“I don’t care that you stole from him,” she explained, “I care because you could’ve been killed! Why would you even go after a man you knew was a murderer!?” she boomed, practically flickering because of how upset she was.

“I’m sorry for worrying you Grandma, really I am, but I can’t promise you that I won’t do it again,” Norman responded, defiantly.

Grandma Babcock flickered exasperatedly for a little bit before sighing in resignation. “Fine,” she declared, “I don’t like it, but I guess I can’t stop you either. But you have to at least do better than that to stay safe. At the very least, find a partner so you’re not just bluffing about having someone who can go to the police.”

Norman ran some quick calculations in his head and figured that, with the money he stole and the incoming police reward, he could afford not to do something like that what he just did for a while, long enough to find a partner.

“Alright Grandma, you have a deal. I won’t do that again until I have backup,” Norman agreed.

He then yawned, the adrenaline having had left his system, and the resulting crash leaving him tired. Though it was earlier than when he usually turned in, the day’s events left Norman drained and ready to sleep—for a long time. He stripped down to his underwear and noticed that both his undershirt and boxers were soaked with sweat from his little marathon earlier, but he was too tired to do anything about it. Norman then climbed into bed and passed out, less than 10 minutes after his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Slightly before the encounter, Dipper and Mabel had followed the shadowy figure down a dark lit street, hoping to gather clues from interrogating him when they noticed a smaller figure approach the man and start to talk to him.

“What are they saying?” Mabel asked in a harsh whisper.

“I don’t know,” Dipper answered, “I can’t make anything out.”

Ducking into a nearby alley they decided to wait it out and hid behind one of the trash cans, curious as to what would unfold, hopefully, they might even uncover a clue!

As the conversation progressed, they noticed that the shadowy figure was getting increasingly agitated, whilst the smaller figure remained seemingly unfazed.

“Wow, I really wish we could hear what they’re saying,” Mabel commented, longingly. “You think we should get closer?”

“Probably not a good idea,” Dipper responded, “that man seems pretty agitated and he could hurt us. Waiting to see how it plays out would be the smarter idea.”

“But what about the other guy he’s talking to?” Mabel insisted. “He looks like he could be about our age, he could be in trouble.”

“Huh?” Dipper asked, puzzled, “How would you even know that? I can barely make out anything at all, for all we know, it could be an adult or even a stack of gnomes.”

Just then, the smaller figure loudly called out “After all, your wife was found, in the basement with your unregistered revolver."

“Oh wow, it’s that Prenderghast kid from the other day!” Dipper remarked with surprise.

“Oh yeah, him...” Mabel replied sourly, sarcasm dripping from every word.

But before Dipper could ask Mabel why her mood had suddenly nosedived, they both noticed that the shadowy figure had pushed Norman up against the wall and had drawn a knife.

“Is that a kni—,” Dipper began before Mabel cut him off.

“Holy shit, he’s got a knife!” she exclaimed, forgetting to whisper, before trying to drag Dipper away from the scene.

“Wait. WAIT!” Dipper protested, “we can’t just leave the kid there to fend off that guy alone, we have to help him!”

“What happened to ‘that man seems pretty agitated’ and ‘waiting to see how it plays out would be the smarter idea’?” Mabel asked, almost mockingly.

“Well you were right Mabel, he is around our age, and we can’t just leave him to fend for himself against that guy. We have to do something,” Dipper stressed, “what has gotten into you lately? You’re acting weird, the Mabel I know would never leave someone like that to fend for himself if she could help it.”

“Ugh, fine,” Mabel drawled, in annoyance. Her eyes darted around the alleyway, looking for something she could use until she found something in another nearby alleyway.

‘There’s something,’ Mabel thought to herself before she towards the other alleyway, Dipper hot on her heels.

“Wait, Mabel, I told you, we need to—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Mabel retorted, cutting him off, “don’t worry, we’re gonna save your precious boyfriend,” she said, contempt dripping off every syllable of “boyfriend”. Though, Dipper didn’t notice this, as he was too busy turning red.

“I-I’m not, he’s not, we’re not—” Dipper stuttered, turning a brilliant hue that put fire engines to shame.

“Whatever,” Mabel dismissed, before she knocked over the trash can lid, the noise giving Norman the distracting intermission he needed to regroup and collect his thoughts. “There, happy now? Now let’s get out of here before he turns that knife on us,” Mabel declared, grabbing Dipper and dragging him away before he could voice any further objections, leaving no room for argument.

Mabel and Dipper ran back to the Mystery Shack, Mabel’s mood seemingly picking up the further away they were from the alleyway. By the time the twins arrived at the Shack, Mabel was her regular bubbly self again, to Dipper’s relief.

“We’re home!” Mabel called out as she strode into the cabin, Dipper strolling in behind her.

“Welcome back dudes,” Soos called back, “what’d you two do today?”

“Yeah,” Wendy asked, returning from the stock room in the back just in time to catch the beginning of the conversation, “you were out practically all day, what’s new with you guys?”

“We managed to find a lead,” Dipper replied, “the husband of one of the victims. We followed him to a back alleyway and found him talking with that new kid from the other day.”

“Yeah,” Mabel sneered, attitude having done yet another 180°, “Dipper’s little boyfriend.”

“HE’S NOT MY—” Dipper began, face reddening as he got riled up. Realizing that he was letting her rile him up, he took a deep breath to calm himself before he continued, “anyway, we saw the man approach and threaten the new kid with a knife.”

“Umm, that’s not what happened,” Mabel objected, “OK, so what really happened is that the man was minding his business, probably grieving over his lost wife, when that kid showed up and started harassing the poor man.”

“Harassment!?,” Dipper yelled, voice cracking in the process, “the guy drew a knife on the kid, a kid, Mabel, how do you explain that?”

“You really think he’s so, innocent, huh Dipper?” Mabel questioned bitterly, “but how do you explain the man taking the money is his wallet and throwing it at the kid, huh? The kid was obviously shaking him down." 

“Look,” Mabel began, turning to address Wendy and Soos, don’t listen to lover boy over here, that kid is bad news. Maybe he’s like Gideon or even some sort of paranormal hitman getting his payment!”

Wendy widened her eyes and placed her hand on her chin in contemplation. "That wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility," she stated, only to be met with ignorance on the parts of both twins.

“G-G-Gid-Gideon!?,” Dipper sputtered, practically indignant on Norman’s behalf, “there’s no way he’s anything like that, that, that fraud.”

“Hmm, you’re right,” Mabel said, donning a faux-pensive expression, before smirking “so you agree that he’s probably a hitman then?”

Dipper incoherently sputtered before he gave up and stormed off in a huff, fed up and ready to turn in for the night while Wendy and Soos gave each other concerned glances.

“Guess some people just can’t handle the truth,” Mabel said, smirk widening. Feeling victorious, she too decided to go to bed.

Wendy followed Soos behind the vending machine, "Never a dull day in Gravity Falls huh?" The ginger quipped, walking down the spiral staircase. 

Soos gave a hearty chuckle, "You know it! But, Mister P. put me in charge of them, so I have to keep them safe. Can you double-check the B.I.P.P.E.R. system, I have a bad feeling about this. I'm going to send Mister P. a message.”

“Will do,” Wendy replied, before getting somber. “But seriously, something’s up. I’m worried about those two. I’m pretty sure that kid they were arguing about has something to do with it. I doubt he’s a hitman, though, I wouldn’t rule it out either. Still, that doesn’t mean he’s not potentially dangerous.”

Wendy went into the control room and sat down at the control station. The glow of the screens in the otherwise dark room illuminated her face as she ran a diagnostic, triple checking the magic sensors, and also wiping a smudge off of the screen displaying Mabel's room. Returning, she saluted while giving her brief report: "The Bill Intrusion Prevention and Protection Evangelion Robot system," she breaks, chuckling a bit.

"Hey don't make fun of Melody's addition to the acronym!" Soos interrupted, getting defensive.

She placed a closed hand to her mouth and coughed a bit, "Sorry, the B.I.P.P.E.R. system is calibrated for Bill Level Threats and is currently on a 5 Second scanning rotation. If anything powerful comes anywhere near the Shack we'll know about it."


	6. Dipper Does Some Investigating of His Own (And The Conclusions May Shock You)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

Norman woke up the next morning, with his stomach growling. ‘Not again,’ he lamented at first until he remembered that he had come into a bit of money from the previous night’s episode. After he realized that he was no longer broke, a smile broke out on Norman’s face.

‘Looks like things are finally looking up for me,’ the young medium mused.

His train of thought was interrupted as his other senses finally came back online, and his nose finally registered the smell of the room. He looked around the room until his eyes found the pile of clothes at the corner of the room.

‘Oh yeah, I skipped showering night after confronting the murderer,’ he remembered. He then had a thought and went to inspect the sheets.

‘Yep, those are dirty, alright,’ he confirmed, ‘Guess this means I’ll have to wash these again,’ he briefly considered before shaking his head in disagreement.

‘I can’t keep doing laundry all the time, I’ll just have to put up with it,’ he decided.

He then picked out his clothes, grabbed his things and went down to shower. 

After showering and dressing, Norman decided that today was the day he’d finally go and visit Stanford’s cabin, feeling that he had put it off long enough. He was ready to solve this mystery. He grabbed the notes he took at the library and the envelope of evidence from his murder investigation, intending to mail it, and set off for the Mystery Shack. 

While he was making his way to the motel exit, his stomach growled, once again, so he decided to sate his hunger by going to the diner, happy to finally eat some real food for the first time in months. He turned to the front desk and called out, “Is there anywhere to eat around here?”

“Yeah,” the clerk said, beckoning him over. Once Norman walked over, the clerk brought out a map and started pointing. “So, we’re here, and if you go this way, you’ll be able to find Greasy's Diner,” the clerk said, drawing an imaginary line across the map to demonstrate the path to Norman.

“Thank you,” Norman replied before he set out.

‘Well, that takes care of finding a map,’ Norman mused, ‘looks like my luck continues.’ 

* * *

That same day, Mabel and Dipper avoided each other for most of the morning. While Dipper chomped down on a grilled cheese sandwich he glared at his sister and spoke up, "You really were going to leave him there to die, weren't you?" 

Mabel just rolled her eyes and shrugged. 

He threw up his hands, "I can’t believe you!" Dipper said with disgust and contempt in his voice. "I'm heading out!" he yelled, needing to let off some steam.

Dipper stormed out of the Mystery Shack in a huff, fed up with Mabel’s actions and attitudes over the past few days. ‘Seriously, what has gotten into her?’ he mused, unconsciously angrily kicking a stone and stubbing his toe. He hopped around on one foot, trying to work the pain off, all the while angrily grumbling in frustration. After he worked off the pain, Dipper decided to go for a walk to clear his head. He didn’t have a destination in mind, so he wandered off at random to wherever his feet carried him, not paying attention.

After about an hour of walking, Dipper had calmed down. While he was still somewhat frustrated with Mabel, he was no longer experiencing the blinding fury his conversation with her from earlier had driven him to. With his mind cleared of his previous frustration, Dipper took inventory of his surroundings, noticing that he had wandered far from the Shack.

The area looked familiar to Dipper. He racked his brain to try and remember when he had been there previously. He pondered for a moment before he remembered—he had passed by the area while he was on his way to the motel where the “exorcist” was staying. 

‘No, not an exorcist,’ Dipper reminded himself, ‘he said he was a medium, a “Prenderghast”, whatever that is.’

At the thought of the Prenderghast boy, Dipper was reminded of the argument he and Mabel had earlier and also the previous night about him, causing him to frown as he remembered the accusations she had lobbied against him.

‘Well, since I’m already here, might as well go see him, maybe ask him about last night myself...’ Dipper reasoned. 

With his new course of action decided, Dipper set off in the direction of the motel, his mood having had significantly improved with the idea of talking to him again.

* * *

Upon arriving at Greasy’s Diner, Norman took it in, noticing that it was built in a log on top of spare train parts. Even from the outside, Norman could already pick up the telltale smell of greasy food. Stomach growling and mouth drooling, Norman went inside, taking care to wipe the drool off his mouth as he settled down. The red vinyl cushions on the booth he sat at were a godsend from the hard wooden benches he was used to laying on during his travels from bus to bus. The decor of the place was rather dated, black and white checkered tiles on the walls, neon signs hung in the windows, even an old jukebox in the corner. Soon after, Lazy Susan came by. "Here's a menu, can I get you something to drink?" she asked, pen and notepad in hand.

Norman smiled at her and handed her back the menu, already knowing what he wanted. "Could I get a cup of coffee—black—and your largest burger?"

"Of course, what kind of side do you want with your burger, coleslaw, fries, salad, baked potato?"

"Fries!" He answered quickly perhaps with bit too much enthusiasm. He was eager to fill his stomach and indulge himself, "Fries please," he repeated, suppressing his excitement. 

"It'll be about fifteen minutes," she said promptly going back to the kitchen. 

After a few minutes, Lazy Susan came around with a pot of coffee and proceeded to gingerly pour Norman a cup. She wasn't able to make too much small talk because of the handful of other patrons in the diner, but she took note of his pale and sunken face.

"Thank you," the boy said courteously.

"You're welcome hun!" she said, before moving on to another table.

Norman patiently waited as his appetite grew by the minute. He anxiously tapped his fingers on the table, but the light hum of the other customers did somewhat mask his hungry growls. He sipped his black coffee, trying to keep his ravenousness at bay. 

Soon enough Lazy Susan came back over to his table with a heaping plate of fries and a burger which was monstrous in size. "One Manotaur burger, a side of fries, and one slice of pumpkin pie."

"I didn't order—"

She winked with her one eye, "It's on the house, hun."

Norman forced a grateful smile, reeling from the cringe of Susan’s unsettling wink, "Thank you so much," 

"No problem hun, enjoy," she said kindly before taking her leave.

Before she was even out of sight, he picked up his burger and sunk his teeth in with reckless abandon. His salivation glands were so ablaze with greasy meaty goodness that he could cry. The crisp lettuce, the crunchy onions, the juicy tomatoes, the sweet pickles…they all added to the texture and bliss of the thick meat patty. 

Before he knew it, his stomach was full and his indulgence was gone, mere crumbs were left in his wake. He patted his belly contently briefly pondering if he still had room for the sweet treat, he did and quickly devoured the pie.

With his strength back and energized with caffeine and sugar he was ready for anything. He dug out a fistful of cash counted enough to cover the bill and give Lazy Susan a sizable tip for her kindness and generosity something he never got back home. He left the diner with a smile and headed towards the Mystery Shack.

* * *

Upon entering the motel, Dipper realized that he did not know which room Norman was staying in.

'Crap, what do I do now?' he asked himself. Dipper looked around for a solution when he noticed the front desk. 'Oh yeah, Sheriff Blubs owns this place, maybe I can ask him,' he figured, happy to have found a solution.

Dipper walked up to the front desk and started speaking with the clerk, "Hey, sheriff," he began.

"Dipper! I didn't expect to see you back here so soon, you here to book a room?" the sheriff asked, half-jokingly.

"Sorry, not today," Dipper replied, "I'm actually here to see that kid from earlier."

"Oh, is that so?" the sheriff asked, "Well he's not here now so you're gonna have to wait until he gets back."

'Who knows where he went or when he'll be back? I can't wait that long,' Dipper thought to himself. 'Gotta come up with something.'

"O-Oh, yeah, he said I should wait up for him in his room, but he forgot to tell me his room number or to give me a room key," Dipper said, unconvincingly.

The former sheriff suspected that Dipper wasn't telling the truth, but figured that he was investigating a mystery or something, so he decided he'd help him. He went behind the desk and took out a blank keycard and placed it in the key card machine and programmed it to room 318. He called Deputy Durland over and asked him to man the desk for a bit while he helped Dipper.

The former sheriff then turned to Dipper. "Alright Dipper, this is normally against motel policy, but I'm going to make an exception for you this once. But you better remember those keys next time!" Blubs informed Dipper. "Follow me, I'll let you in"

Dipper followed Blubs up the stairs, excited to finally get into the kid's room.

'Yes, it worked!' Dipper thought, cheering internally as they made their way to Norman's room.

Upon arriving in front of Norman's room, Blubs used the keycard to unlock the door and opened it, gesturing inside to Dipper.

"Alright Dipper, now I won't do this again, so if you lock yourself out of his room, you really will have to wait until he comes back. Understand?" the former sheriff lectured.

Dipper nodded his head absentmindedly and made a vague noise of affirmation before he walked into the room.

Blubs just shook his head amusedly and closed the door after Dipper, leaving Dipper alone in Norman's room.

Dipper looked around for the light switch and then flipped it on, taking in the sight of Norman's room.

'So this is where he lives huh?' Dipper mused. 'Well, might as well do some looking around... see what I can find,' Dipper reasoned.

He rummaged around the room for about a little bit, before giving up, unthinkingly plopping himself face down on Norman's bed.

'Welp, it seems like there's nothing of interest here,' Dipper lamented, 'was this all a waste of time? Did I really just break into some stranger's room for nothing?'

As Dipper laid sprawled out on Norman's bed, he began to pick up a peculiar scent. The scent was faintly familiar to him and he started to move around the bed to try and see if he could identify the source of the scent until he found the highest concentration of the smell, just slightly north of the middle of the bed. Dipper inhaled deeply, taking in as much of the scent as possible, entering a haze of some sort. His dick began to swell as the scent overcame his senses. Dipper picked himself up to investigate what could've been causing the smell, his dick jumping as he realized that he was sniffing a sweat spot left by the kid on the sheets, the musk was still ripe.

The kid's scent had Dipper so _turned on, _he couldn't _stand_ it. He wanted nothing more than to rub one out right then and there, but Dipper was conflicted. He was faced with a slight moral dilemma as to whether or not he should jack off in this guy's bedroom.

'The fact that I'm even considering this is crazy,' Dipper chastised himself, 'of course I shouldn't just… _jerk off_ in someone else's room.'

With that thought, Dipper got off Norman's bed and prepared to leave his room. He took one last look around the room and noticed something out of the corner of his eye that he hadn't during his initial sweep of the room. There, in a hidden corner of the room was a pile of clothes Norman wore the day before.

Any inhibitions were chased away by the revelation, Dipper had given in to his urges. He was fully aroused, and wasn't going to leave without getting off.

'I mean, I already broke into his room, me doing this couldn't possibly be that much worse, right?' Dipper rationalized to himself, hand having had already made its way into his pants. He pulled out his dick and begun slowly stroking himself. He approached the clothes, steadily increasing the speed of his strokes as he got closer, the musk steadily increasing in intensity.

'This isn't _so_ bad,' Dipper rationalized as he continued to stroke, now doing so at a rapid pace. But as he continued to rub himself he realized that as good as it felt, it wasn't enough. Masturbating while standing was not a very comfortable position, Dipper realized. So he laid on the ground, head near Norman's clothes as he continued to stroke himself.

'That's better,' Dipper thought. The new position was much more comfortable and Dipper's furious stroking was finally starting to yield results. Dipper could feel his orgasm building, and with a few more strokes, Dipper was sent over the edge and he came, most of it landing on his shirt, while some landed on the wall behind Dippers' head. ‘Phew, that's better,' Dipper thought, having fully gotten over feeling guilty about what he had just done. Yet, despite his orgasm, Dipper still didn't feel fully satisfied, he felt that something was still missing.

'Oh

'Whoops,' Dipper thought to himself, looking at the cum he had accidentally left on the wall, I’ll just clean it later.'

Moving on from that though, Dipper turned to take a look at the pile of Norman's clothing. 'Oh well, I’ve already come this far…' Dipper rationalized to himself, before going all in and burying his face directly into the pile of Norman's clothing and taking a deep breath.

'So _that's _what was missing,' Dipper realized as the direct contact with the source of the musk re-aroused him. He was somehow even harder than before.

'Guess I'm going all-in on this…' Dipper mused. He took the pile of Norman's clothes and chucked them onto Norman's bed and then took off his clothes, tossing them aside to the other side of the room. He then got on top of Norman's clothes and started stroking himself again, the increased concentration of Norman's musk acted as an aphrodisiac for Dipper, who was the most aroused he could ever remember being.

As he intensified his strokes, he started to think back to what he saw when he and Norman were in that shower area together, thinking back to the _monster_ in between Norman's legs and what it would be like to suck it. Dipper's dick jumped at the thought, bringing him much closer to a second orgasm.

Then Dipper got an idea. With one hand still stroking himself, Dipper sifted through Norman's clothes until he found what he was looking for, a pair of Norman's boxers. He held the boxers up to his nose and took in a deep breath. And with that, he came once again spilling over into his hand for a second time.

Yet, Dipper _still_ wasn't done at this point. He hardly noticed that he had finished once again, his senses completely overridden by the musk from Norman's underwear, and he continued to furiously stroke himself. The musk in the air was positively _dizzying_ for Dipper, his mind was lost to the pleasure as he pressed the boxers as close to his face as possible.

As Dipper opened his mouth to let out his first moan of the afternoon, unaware of the garments in his face, he ended up accidentally slightly gagging himself on Norman's boxers, and, in the process, taking a slight lick of the crotch area. And then, as if a dam had burst, Dipper came, cum spilling with an intensity and volume that surpassed the previous two orgasms combined. While Dipper was able to exercise some control with his first two orgasms, his third was completely out of his control, splattering half of Norman's bed and all of Norman's clothes.

It took about 5 minutes before the haze cleared and Dipper regained his senses. He then surveyed the bed to see if he left any evidence behind and, to his dismay, there were several cumstains over Norman's bed, in addition to the sweat stain he'd left during his session, leaving behind palpatory and olfactory evidence of his misdeeds. Dipper sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he'd probably need to wash Norman's sheets if he wanted to erase suspicion, berating himself for giving in to his urges and not being more careful.

He then redressed himself and then moved Norman's clothes, from his bed, back to its original spot in the corner of the room. While doing so, he spotted a slip of paper that must have slipped out, next to Norman's boxers, that read "Stanford Pines, Gravity Falls." 

'What could he possibly want with Grunkle Ford?' Dipper mused.

After putting the clothes back where he found them, Dipper took the slip and put it in his pocket, and, after a split-second decision, decided to pocket Norman's boxers as well. Then, Dipper was about to strip Norman's bed and wash his sheets when he heard a knock on the door.

"Yo, Dipper, you may wanna head back to the Shack now," Blubs called out from the other side of the door, a sense of urgency in his voice.

"Why, what's going on?" Dipper asked.

"I don't know, but something's going down there. I'm hearing reports that Shacktron has been activated," Blubs replied.

"Shacktron has been reactivated!?" Dipper asked, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach at the potential reasons why Shacktron would be active again.

'What if it's Bill?' he pondered, panicked before Blubs interrupted his thoughts.

"I'm going down to the Shack to investigate what's going on, so I can give you a ride if you'd like," Blubs said, interrupting Dipper's panicked musing.

"Oh yeah, I'll take that ride then," Dipper said.

Dipper and Blubs then went downstairs to the lobby, to collect the former Deputy Durland, and then the three exited the motel, got in the former sheriff's Jeep, and sped over to the Mystery Shack.

* * *

After thoroughly enjoying his meal, Norman was ready to finally visit the Mystery Shack. 

“Don’t forget to turn in your findings to the police,” Grandma Babcock reminded Norman. Giving a noise in the affirmative, Norman used the pen he borrowed to sign the receipt and quickly scribbled the address for the police department that he remembered from the news segment the other night as well as the return address—the motel’s address—onto the envelope and then exited the diner, calling out a “thank you” over his shoulder as he left and started heading towards the Shack.

On his way to the Shack, Norman finds a mailbox, and mails the envelope to the police department, not wanting to be deterred from getting to the Shack again and also worried that that police wouldn’t take him seriously if he showed up as himself, in person, a pre-teen kid, hoping that they’d mail him the reward.

He leisurely strolled through Gravity Falls, taking in the scenery that he had been too impatient and hungry to take in the other times. He wouldn’t mind living here, he decided, noting that the people were friendlier and weirder than back at Blithe Hollow. While he was an outcast back at home, he’d fit right in, in this town. 

His musing came to a halt as he finally reached his destination, the Mystery Shack. Norman was immediately let down by the dilapidated appearance of the Shack. It was clearly a tourist trap, he could see cheap little bobbles and knickknacks from the window, and one of the letters that made up the sign reading “MYSTERY SHACK” on top of the building was on the verge of falling off the building entirely.

Still, Norman had come too far to turn around now. He went after his notes one last time, making a plan of what he’s gonna ask when he gets in. He then takes a deep breath and enters the Shack.

“Sup little dude, welcome to the Mystery Shack,” Soos greeted Norman from the counter

Norman got right to business. “I’m looking for Stanford Pines.”

Soos got a weird look in his eyes as he nervously called to the back. “Wendy! Can you come over here, please? Need help with this customer”

After a few moments, a tall red-headed girl comes out from the back of the store. She gives Norman a once-over before turning to Soos, “This the customer?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m looking for Stanford Pines,” Norman repeated.

Wendy got the same look in her eyes as she and Soos shared a look.

“Who’s asking?” Wendy queried suspiciously, eyes narrowing.

“I’m told that he’s an expert on all things magical and paranormal, I wanted to see if I could find out anything from him.”

“Uh-huh,” Wendy said, now even more suspicious, arching an eyebrow, “and just what _exactly_ are you looking to find out about, huh?”

“Spirits,” Norman replied evasively, not wanting to discuss the reason for his visit with anyone but Stanford. “Look, can I just see him?”

Wendy’s suspicion turned to paranoia, the thought of Bill jumping to the forefront of her mind at Norman’s mention of “spirits”, and she started actively trying to shoo Norman away, “Look, sorry kid, Stanford’s not here.”

“But this _is_ the Mystery Shack, right?” Norman asked.

“Well, yeah,” Wendy reluctantly replied.

“And I’m told that Stanford’s lab was here, that’s true right,” Norman pressed.

“Uhh, no?” Wendy replied shiftily.

“Yeah,” Soos interrupted, before realizing what he just said, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth.

Norman was getting impatient at their stalling and dodging his questions when a familiar face came out from behind them. Mabel had a sinister wicked grin on her face. He could see an ominous dark aura emanating from her. He was all too familiar with this side effect of demonic possession, however, it wasn't every day he encountered an entity so ancient and strong it could mask its true power.

He had the element of surprise on his side, and he would need it to combat such a malicious and foreboding demon.

Electricity began to course over Norman's body as a green mist began to spew from his pores. He raised his hands and lightning shot from them, hitting Mabel. Wendy and Soos stood there, slack-jawed and in shock, and suddenly sirens blared and metal shutters dropped along the outside wall. The whole building shook and tilted causing Norman to stumble and fall backward, rolling out of the front door while Wendy and Soos braced themselves on the counter. As he regains his senses he gets up to hear the song A Cruel Angel's Thesis coming from the loudspeakers. 

He looked up to see a large mechanical fist coming down at him. He rolled to the left and dodged the fist that created a crater next to him. This was serious. He again tapped into the full power of the Pendergast bloodline and levitated into the sky. His green miasma swirled around him as electricity arced from him, unintentionally setting a few trees on fire. 

In the heart of Shacktron Wendy whipped her head to look at Soos, "You saw what he did, look, Mabel is still on the floor unconscious!"

"I know, I know. Just don't kill him, dude," Soos pleaded with Wendy, who was in a jet black combat suit that controlled Shacktron.

She punched and kicked inside of the metal behemoth and it mimicked every one of her actions.

The atmosphere was tense, smoke was in the air as Norman evaded Wendy's attempts to swat him out of the air. He tried to counter-attack with his lightning bolts at every opportunity he had, but it did little to the hulking mech. He had a bit of an advantage being so small compared to the colossal mech.

Wendy ground her teeth and twisted her body around, whipping Shacktron’s massive tail around. Norman’s eyes widened, as he was caught off guard by the surprise attack. There was no time to dodge, all he could do in that instant was try to soften the blow. The tail impacted his spectral shield and sent him flying into the ground. He formed a long crater as he skidded along the ground until he hit a tree with a thud.

The blow was hard. Norman was fading in and out of consciousness as his vision began to blur. 

Wendy was ready to deal the finishing attack and threw a final punch. Norman could see the attack come but he just accepted his fate. However, through his double vision, he saw a distinct navy blue bubble vest in front of him, with outstretched arms

Wendy reared back as best as she could at the sight of Dipper, but she couldn't halt the mechanized melee completely, striking Dipper.

Norman watched as his protector was flung to the side like a rag doll. At that moment, Norman lost all control and an unparalleled rage consumed him. His eyes glowed with ethereal power.

Dark clouds coursing with lightning began to swirl above them, hazy gusts of wind swept through the forest, they could hear thunder start to rumble. Norman raised both his hands then a massive bolt of lightning struck him, acting as a conduit he redirects the flow and aims it at Shacktron. Soos recoiled as Shacktron’s control panels sparked, its screens burned out, and its wires smoked and sizzled. The robot lurched to a complete standstill as it short-circuited. 

Norman began to regain his self-control and breathed a sigh of relief now that the threat had been neutralized. His body was sore from being a conduit for such power, and he was on the brink. 

All of a sudden, Mabel bursts through the ceiling of the crippled Shacktron. Completely possessed by the dark energy exuding from her oozed malice. 

Dazed, Norman watched Mabel ascend up to him. He wouldn't have believed it if it wasn't for the hole in the roof still being there.

An even larger dark foreboding ominous cloud manifests, blocking out the sun and casting the town and nearby forest in an evil, eerie twilight.

Mabel's eyes were glowing red as she rose into the air. A swirling black miasmatic mist spews forth from her mouth enveloping her. It reeked of the stench of death, decay, and rot. Every shadow she could see was under her command. She threw her arms forward, and tangible shadows sprang forth from behind her and at her will. Norman, too, raised his hands casting electricity from them. 

The two opposing forces clashed mid-air, one of the heavens and one of hell. The darkness began to swallow the light. Norman clenched his hands and grimaced, ‘I can't die here—not after my second chance. I need answers,’ he thought, reinvigorating himself enough to push back the darkness and envelop Mabel in his light, damning the demon to the shadow realm.

Completely drained, exhausted both physically and spiritually, Norman dropped from the sky along with Mabel. 

Dipper sprinted towards the two of them, still in awe at what had just transpired, and attempted to break Norman's fall whilst Wendy, having left the disabled Shacktron, dashed to do the same for Mabel. 

Soos soon followed Wendy, huffing and puffing. He leaned over placing his hands on his knees. "Since when did Mabel get superpowers, dudes?" The man-child said, confused.

Dipper cradled Norman in his arms and yelled over the short distance between Wendy and Soos and himself, "That wasn't Mabel guys, that was some sort of demonic possession. Ugh, I'm such an idiot, why didn't I realize sooner..." he said bashing himself. 

Wendy got to her feet, holding Mabel, bridal style. "So the little shit saved her then, it's not your fault Dipper—we didn't notice either," she admitted feeling guilty, "Can you carry him? Let's get them inside."

Dipper began to lug Norman over his shoulder and took a few steps only to succumb to his own, non-life-threatening injuries, fainting. Soos rushed over and picked up both unconscious boys whisking them into Shacktron, while Blubs started to put out stray fires.


	7. Dipper Dips Down Deep

Two days later, Dipper awoke on the living room couch - sore, but alive. He looked down and saw tape bandages wrapped around his torso. Wendy leaned in the doorway, "Good, you’re awake, not every day you get three cracked ribs from a giant mech..." 

Dipper suddenly remembered what happened before he passed out, and sat up quickly. He gripped his gut in pain from the fast movement. "Mabel, Norman, are they ok? Where are they?"

"Both still sleeping, Mabel is in her room and Norman is in yours," Wendy informed, leaving Dipper very relieved.

He twisted his torso around to get off the couch and again gripped his side in pain, "I should go check on her," he groaned.

"Ok, try not to hurt yourself—you're not a hundred percent yet," Wendy warned, lightly punching him on the shoulder with her fist.

Dipper smiled, thankful for her concern, and hobbled out of the room and down the hallway to Mabel's room.

Soos looked to the door as it slowly creaked open, "Hey dude," he said, standing solemnly by her bedside.

"How is she?" He asked glumly at the sight of multiple machines hooked up to her.

"She's stable. I've been in contact with your Grunkles, and Ford has been advising me on treatment," Soos leaned over and got a book out from a bag next to him. "Here, Ford told me to give this to you," he extended his hand, holding the book out to Dipper.

Dipper took the book and looked at the title: "Meta-humans in Correlation to the Extra-Dimensional: Spectrals by Stanford Pines." Bemused, Dipper flipped to the first chapter: "The Prenderghasts!" he read aloud, shocked. "I should show this to him."

"Go on dude he's in the attic, I got things here," Soos reassured with a smile.

Dipper nodded and left, knowing Mabel was in chubby hands. With the book under his arm, he made his way up to his room and quietly opened the door, closing it behind him. "He's still knocked out," he hushedly whispered to himself while walking over.

Norman laid there on Dipper's bed in his boxers, half-covered by a blanket, with dressings lacinged his skin from his face and arms to his thighs. Dipper's attention was immediately drawn to the tent Norman was pitching. He placed the book down on his nightstand without taking his eyes off of Norman's boner. 

The thirteen-year-old was drooling with sexual lust. Dipper's heart began to race, his palms started to sweat, and he licked his dry lips. He just had to have a taste. Against his better judgment, he crept onto the bed, trying not to jar Norman from what seemed like a very arousing dream. His tan cargo shorts were getting tighter by the second as he gingerly positioned himself in between Norman's legs.

Norman breathed softly, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. His eyeballs danced behind their lids, clearly in REM sleep. 

The atmosphere was quiet and still, only broken by Norman's occasional snoring and the thumping in Dipper's ears.

The brunette slowly reached over, lightly gripping Norman's waistband and furling his boxers back over his exposed head. The bulbous head was a deep purple, and slick with precum.

Leaning over, Dipper began to indulge in his carnal desire, licking up the somewhat revealed shaft and swirling his tongue around the gland. His eyes started to roll back into his head at his sinful actions.

Dipper found the taste to be mostly pleasant, recalling a similar taste to the one from when he snuck into Norman’s room and accidentally tongued his boxers. 

Norman showed no signs of awakening, still only emitting the occasional snore as Dipper continued licking around his head.

Encouraged by the depth of Norman’s slumber, Dipper decided to take things further. He slowed his assault on Norman’s head as he prepared to take Norman in deeper. He pulled his head off of Norman’s shaft and lightly grasped it, subconsciously weighing it in his hand as he internally deliberated with himself over whether or not he wanted to really take Norman in. 

After a few moments of hesitation, Dipper bit his lip indecisively but decided to go for it, he so desperately wanted to take Norman in, so he took a breath to steel himself before going for it and taking in about an inch past the head of Norman’s dick. Dipper paused for a second to mull over the taste, finding that it was still pleasant, but stronger than before, and realizing that he quite enjoyed it. 

Dipper’s dick was starting to dribble precum, staining his tighty whities, but he paid little mind to that as he focused on taking in more of Norman’s dick. He continued his journey, taking in another inch, slowly making his way to the base. 

While he was no closer to waking, Norman’s breathing picked up slightly, his even breaths becoming the shallowest of pants as Dipper’s ministrations began to have an effect on him.

Dipper did not notice this and, thinking that all was well, continued to inch deeper down Norman’s dick, taking in another two inches until he was almost halfway down Norman’s cock. 

Dipper’s dick was _weeping_ at this point and he could no longer ignore it, he reached down into his briefs to start jerking his dick, only to discover that his briefs were semi-stuck to his dick because of all the pre-cum he had been emitting. He decided to use the precum as a poor makeshift lube and started to fervently stroke himself, far too aroused to start off slowly.

Meanwhile, Norman was starting to respond more to Dipper’s attention. His already closed eyelids squeezed together tightly, and his hands started to clench the bedsheets as the sensations overwhelmed his slumbering body.

While stroking himself, Dipper distractedly took in another inch, now halfway down Norman’s dick. He decided to get creative and start trying out different techniques, alternating between poking at random parts of Norman’s dick and going back to swirling his tongue around Norman’s head.

As Dipper was getting experimental on Norman’s dick, Norman’s body jerked as Dipper tongued his slit, causing him to buck up into Dipper’s mouth, forcing him to take in another four inches, bringing Dipper almost to the base, but causing him to gag and choke. He quickly moved off Norman’s dick and threw his head to the side in a sputtering cough, trying to keep quiet so as to not wake Norman, but failing to do so. Fortunately for him, the depth of Norman’s sleep was such that Norman did not wake from any of it.

After recovering from Norman’s abrupt thrust into his mouth, Dipper found himself not deterred but determined, determined to take in all of Norman’s dick—and without gagging. He noticed that despite the little scare, his erection had not flagged at all and that he was just as hard as before, precum now pouring out of his dick like a mini-fountain. 

Choosing not to dwell on the implication of that at the moment, Dipper decided that stroking himself through his pants was uncomfortable and no longer feasible, so while keeping one hand in his pants, on his dick, giving it the occasional stroke to keep himself hard, he tried as best as he could to shimmy out of his pants, then carelessly flinging them to the side. Meanwhile, he pushed his tighty-whities down his legs slightly, not fully off, but enough to free his dick, as that was all he had the patience for. He was so eager to continue, thinking that he may not have a chance like this again.

He took Norman’s dick in his hand again, weighing it as he mused about his strategy for taking it all in, before figuring he’d try again with the same strategy, but to take in as much as he possibly could to avoid being surprised like that again. He took a deep breath before taking the plunge, diving his mouth back onto Norman’s dick and taking in the first three inches. He placed his hands down on Norman’s hips in order to prevent him from bucking into his mouth as he continued to take in more of Norman’s dick, swallowing another two inches, bringing him just shy of the halfway point. 

Dipper continued stroking himself, his dick jumping as he realized that he was at the same point he was at when Norman bucked into his mouth. He did his best to relax his throat and forced his mouth down another inch. 

The bottom half of Norman’s shaft had a richer taste than the upper half. Dipper had to slow down his stroking as the copious amount of precum his dick had leaked had made his grip and dick too slippery, his hand gliding across with minimal friction, denying him stimulation.

Dipper took in another inch before he got bold and started playing around with Norman’s cock again. Like clockwork, Norman started to squirm around again, Dipper applying more pressure to the hand on Norman’s hip to prevent him from bucking up into his mouth again. But even that wasn’t enough to fully stop Norman’s hip gyrations, and Norman was able to still buck slightly into his mouth.

Dipper gagged a little but found it wasn’t as bad as the last time and that it actually helped him take in another half inch. Making some rapid calculations, Dipper figured he could use this to his advantage, and starting tongue prodding Norman’s dick more aggressively, trying to provoke Norman into delivering another shallow thrust.

His strategy was successful, and through more shallow thrusts Dipper was able to work his way down to a few inches above the base. However, Norman’s thrusts started to pick up in intensity and Dipper had to briefly divert his attention from sucking Norman to apply more pressure to the hand forcing Norman’s hips down. However, this _still_ wasn’t enough and seemed to only encourage Norman as his thrusts picked up in intensity, his body subconsciously trying to bury his dick in Dipper’s warm mouth. It got to the point where Dipper had to use both hands (forgetting how slippery his right hand was because of all the precum) to try and push Norman’s hips down.

But Dipper’s hand slipped down Norman’s hipbone on particularly hard thrust, causing him to fall over some at the same time as the thrust, allowing Norman to fully sheath his dick in Dipper’s mouth to the hilt, hitting the back of Dipper’s mouth.

The sensation of Norman’s dick hitting the back of his mouth, combined with the taste of his dick as well as the musk from having his face directly on Norman’s crotch was too much too bare for Dipper and he came instantly, spraying several shots onto his bedspread.

Dipper was fully satisfied with the experience and moved to take Norman’s dick out of his mouth and begin cleaning up, but Norman seemingly had other plans. After Dipper removed his hands from Norman’s hips, Norman began to almost convulse, rapidly bucking up into Dipper’s mouth. Repeatedly exiting Dipper’s mouth a third, a quarter, half-way, up to as much as three-quarters before slamming back into Dipper’s mouth.

Dipper was too dazed after his orgasm to do anything but let Norman use his mouth like a fleshlight, putting up no resistance as Norman continued to slam into the back of his throat. His once flagging dick was once again hard as a rock as he sat back and let the smell and taste of _Norman_ flood and overwhelm his senses.

After a particularly strong thrust, Norman hilted in Dipper’s mouth one last time as he flooded it with his cum, Dipper swallowing as much as he could before he had to get air, collecting the rest in his hands. He then decided to taste the cum he had pooled in his hand, the resulting taste causing Dipper’s first-ever hands-free orgasm.

Now that he too had gotten off, Norman’s hips stilled once again. His eyes were no longer squeezed shut but relaxed, the sexual tension having had fully left his body, leaving him in a relaxed state. Dipper’s heart jumped as he noticed a small little soft smile on Norman’s face that hadn’t been there before. Dipper blushed as he was able to really appreciate how cute Norman was for the first time, and he took pride at the fact that he was the one to put that smile there, his tired dick giving a little twitch.

He then looked around and realized that his activities had left an incriminating mess. Not wanting any evidence of what he had done to remain, he set himself to the task of cleaning up, not wanting to look like a hot mess. He straightened his shirt and slicked back his sweat-soaked hair before he caringly pulled his comforter over his sleeping beauty, who looked so blissfully content post-orgasm. 

The brunette pulled over his desk chair and flicked on the small TV in his room for background noise and sat at Norman’s bedside, holding his hand and hoping for his crush's speedy recovery. 

A couple of hours went by when Dipper heard three faint knocks on his locked door. He got up and unlocked the door, opening it. "Mabel?" He rasped, "you're alright!" He exclaimed, embracing her to the sore discomfort of both of them.

Dipper and Mabel walked over to Norman, Dipper giving Mabel the desk chair. "How is he?"

"He's ok from what I can tell," the boy said from beside the bed.

Norman stirred slowly to consciousness, his eyes fluttered open. He looked at the twins who were both staring at him, "You guys can see me, right!?"

Both nodded yes to the odd question.

"Good, not dead yet… oh ah thanks for saving me Dipper," he thanked gratefully, blushing in the process. 

Dipper’s face began to flush red, embarrassed by the look he was getting from Mabel, "It… it was nothing, thank you for saving my sister," 

"Yeah! Moaning Myrtle was a bitch!" She yelled, back to her old self. "Could you be a little less rough next time?" 

Norman had a look of bewilderment, "Next time? I exorcised a demon from your soul and you want there to be a freaking next time?!” He said slack-jawed and completely dumbfounded, "Are you crazy?! You've been fighting the possession of an incredibly powerful demon for how long? And you want there to be round two?" He asked incredulously.

"Just since going swimming, so you are an Exorcist," she stated happily.

Norman deadpans to Dipper, "She can't be like this all of the time?" "She is," Dipper responded.

"You fought off possession for four days, you're insane, you both are."

The twins shrugged—this kind of shit was just par for the course, for them and Gravity Falls.

In the break of silence, the news catches their attention. "BREAKING NEWS! This just in, the serial killer has been apprehended with evidence provided by a Norman Babcock, he will have ninety days to collect the reward money.”

Just then, Stan's ghost came into the room moaning, "_Money,"_

"Sweet!" He yelled excitedly, sitting up.

"Wait, I thought you were a Prenderghast?" Mabel questioned tilting her head, confused. 

"I am, my real name Babcock is from my father's side, but, I assure you, I am a Prenderghast."

"Oh right, here," Dipper said picking up the book from the nightstand, handing it to Norman, "our Grunkle Ford wanted us to give this to you."

Norman took the book, glancing at the author's name, "You know Stanford Pines?"

"Yeah, he's our great uncle," Dipper informed.

"Oh, great uncle, grunkle, clever," Norman said shifting his body to get off the bed. He quickly realized he was indisposed and pull the blanket back over his waist, "Ah... could I have my clothes back, I should get going."

Mabel got up from her seat and walked over towards the door and picked up a pile of clothes next to the door frame. Mabel congenially threw Norman's clothes at him on her way out, laughing at the way they wrapped around his face. 

Dipper soon followed suit giving Norman some privacy to dress. Dipper could hear shuffling come from his room as he waited patiently. After a few moments, the door slowly creaked open. Fully dressed Norman limped out of the doorway and into the hallway. The book the whole reason he was he in the first place was clenched tightly in his hands.

"Thank you for the book, I wish I could meet the author," Norman said a bit melancholy, "When do I have to return the book?"

"He's a great man… I may have fangirl squealed when I first meet him a year ago, I think you can keep it," he admitted blushing a bit as he guided Norman downstairs.

Norman giggled at the curious reaction, "Thank you, why was he estranged or something?" He furrowed his brow as he wondered why it took him so long to meet his great-uncle.

"Oh he was stuck in another dimension for thirty years," the boy casually said flicking his wrist as they entered the living room. 

Norman’s eyes widen, "What? Is he there now?" He asked, floored.

"Oh no we destroyed the portal, he should be sailing somewhere around Cape Cod with his twin brother our Grunkle Stan."

Wendy entered with Mabel giggling behind her and walked up to Norman, she kneeled down to his level and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry about this whole misunderstanding, I didn't know you were trying to save Mabel."

"It's ok, thanks for taking care of me," he thanked gratefully patting one of the bandages on his cheek. "I should get going through."

Wendy leaned in and whispered into Norman's ear. His eyes expanded darting back and forth before settling on glancing at Dipper as his pale cheeks turned a rosy hue. Norman considered Wendy's enlightening words and walked over to Dipper embracing him in an unexpected and awkward hug giving him a quick peck on the cheek, "Thanks again Dipper," he said as he stepped back and looked at how flustered Dipper had gotten while hearing Mabel snickering.

"M-maybe I...I could… should walk you home for ah… safety reasons?" Dipper stuttered adorably. 

The snickering in the background got slightly louder.

“Safety reasons huh?” Mabel called out, making air quotes as she said “safety reasons”.

“Real smooth, Dipper,” Wendy chimed in, trying and failing to keep a large grin from breaking out across her face.

Norman just turned to Dipper and simply said “sure,” offering Dipper a soft smile in response. 

Dipper’s face went entirely red. ‘So cute,’ he thought to himself.

Dipper was snapped out of his lovestruck daze as Wendy’s snickering joined Mabel’s, re-alerting him to the presence of his audience.

Unable to get any more flustered, a red-faced Dipper pointed to the door and yelled: “Get out!”

Wendy and Mabel’s snickers only intensified, amused by Dipper’s heated display, as they slowly made their way to the door, only picking up their pace when an unamused Dipper found the near object, a shoe, and chucked it at them.

After they left the room and shut the door behind them, Mabel could no longer maintain her composure and burst into laughter, tears of mirth streaming down her face as she succumbed to the hilarity of the situation, Wendy joining in with a few chuckles of her own, more than loud enough for Dipper to hear. This continued for a solid minute before they regained their senses and were able to stop laughing uncontrollably, Mabel wiping tears from her eyes as she did so. Wendy then took pity on Dipper and told Mabel, "come on, let's give those two their privacy."

Having extracting all the amusement she could from the situation, Mabel readily agreed, and both of them left the area immediately surrounding Dipper's door, back to the store side of the Shack, Mabel going back to work for the first time in days since she collapsed and Wendy to fill in for Dipper.

Back in his room, a still red-faced Dipper was trying to calm himself and his blush down, Norman watching amusedly from Dipper's bed as he did so.

"So," Norman began, "'safety reasons' huh?" he asked teasingly.

Dipper whirled around and turned to face Norman. "Don't you start with that as well," Dipper whined, jabbing an accusatory finger in Norman's face.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Norman acquiesced, throwing hands up in a mock gesture of surrender which was betrayed by the smile on his face.

Dipper couldn't even _pretend_ to be angry with Norman while he was smiling at him like that, nor could he help the smile that was slowly starting to break out across his face, the sight of Norman's smile proving infectious to Dipper. Especially with that smile directed directly at him and nobody else.

"So then, my knight in shining armor," Norman said, his words a mixture of playful and sincere, "I believe you were going to escort me home?"

Dipper's face, which had already returned to normal by the time Norman made that statement, turned slightly pink at Norman's words. Still, he played along, and walked over to the door, opened it and gesturing towards while calling out "after you" to Norman.

Norman chuckled in response, causing Dipper to worry he'd misread the situation, but had his fears assuaged as Norman also played along and got off the bed and made his way to and then out the door.

The two boys made their way to the store at the front of the shack, Dipper doing his best to ignoreignoring the shit-eating grins on both Mabel and Wendy's faces, not wanting to let them get to him. Norman turned to both girls and began saying his goodbyes.

"Sorry about zapping you, Mabel," Norman said to Mabel, who waved him off.

"Nah, don't worry about it, I should actually be thanking you for getting ol' Myrtle out of me," Mabel chuckled.

"Thank you for taking care of me," Norman said to Wendy, whose grin only grew wider at Norman's words.

"Oh, don't thank me, thank loverboy over there" she smirked, gesturing towards Dipper, who didn't see the gesture as he was pointedly ignoring both girls.

Norman nodded in understanding, and with that, both boys made their way outside. As they were walking out the door, Mabel called out to Norman: "oh yeah, I'm also sorry for accusing you of being a hitman!"

The utterly befuddled look Norman shot her had Mabel burst into another raucous round of laughter.

Once outside, Norman was preparing to make his way home the usual way, when Dipper interrupted him.

"Wait, did you walk all the way here?" Dipper queried in disbelief, remembering how long he wandered before stumbling on the motel Norman was staying at.

"Well, yeah" Norman replied simply, not understanding why Dipper was making such a big deal out of that.

"But that's so _far,_" Dipper whined.

"And here I thought you were going to escort me back home," Norman said teasingly, a soft smirk overtaking his face. "But if it's too much, I can go alone," he finished, dropping his smirk.

Dipper briefly panicked as he felt his opportunity slipping away from him before he remembered, they didn't _have_ to walk back at all. Without explanation, he lightly grabbed Norman's arm and gently pulled him over, trying to get Norman to follow him.

Norman momentarily lost his balance from the sudden jolt from Dipper's pull but was able to recover before fully falling and followed after Dipper.

"Where are we going? The motel is in the other direction," Norman questioned, puzzled by Dipper's sudden incomprehensible behavior.

His question was soon answered as Dipper pulled him around to where a lone vehicle was parked.

"What's this? Some kind of cart?" Norman queried. Living in Blithe Hollow all his life had meant limited exposure to types of transportation besides the basics of cars, planes, and trains, and the like.

"A golf cart, yeah," Dipper replied.

"Oh?" Norman asked with a hint of amusement in his face, "and I suppose that this is your 'trusty steed?'"

Dipper stared at Norman confusedly for a few seconds before remembering their little roleplay session from earlier. Dipper nodded and replied "yep!" and then got inside, patting the seat next to him as an invitation to Norman.

Norman sat down, keeping his legs as close together as he possibly could to avoid making unnecessary contact with Dipper. Dipper took the keys out and started the golf cart's engine, the golf cart shaking slightly as it started back up.

Norman gave Dipper a wary look. "Can you _really_ drive this thing? Is it even _safe_ to drive?" he prodded.

"Yeah," Dipper responded, "Mabel and I have driven this thing a bunch of times, _all_ over Gravity Falls."

"Alright then, if you say so" Norman acquiesced.

"Just relax, and my steed and I will get you home safe, in no time," Dipper said, getting back into character.

Dipper then pulled out of the parking lot and started on his way back to Norman's motel. About 5 minutes into the drive, Dipper struck up a conversation with Norman, wanting to fill the silence

"So...how are you are you enjoying Gravity Falls?" he floated out, pointedly staring at the road instead of Norman as he waited for his response.

"Well, I haven't had much time to explore since I got here," Norman responded after another minute, "too busy focusing on finding out about the Prenderghasts."

"Oh. Yeah," Dipper replied, embarrassed at asking such a, what he presumed to be, a silly question.

Trying again, Dipper asked, "well...maybe one day I can show you around?" 

Norman turned to him with another soft smile and replied, "maybe one day you could."

The conversation lulled for another 5 minutes before Norman spoke up with a question of his own. "So, what did you mean when you said that you and your sister had experience dealing with ghosts before? You're not Prenderghasts, do Pines have the ability to see ghosts as well?”

"Not like you apparently can, but sometimes ghosts get strong enough that anyone can see them," Dipper explained.

"So then, how _do_ you know such much about ghosts?" Norman asked.

Dipper responded by launching into a long explanation about his entire summer at Gravity Falls the previous year and about Gravity Falls in general and all the creatures and paranormal phenomena that happened, though he never brought up Bill Cipher. After 30 minutes, Norman was staring at Dipper in awe, amazed at his depth of knowledge and experience with the paranormal.

"So what about you?" Dipper inquired, eager to learn more about Norman.

Norman also went into detail about his experiences with ghosts, Agatha, the witch's curse, and all that. His explanation wasn't as long as Dipper's, only lasting about 15 minutes to Dipper's 30.

"So they bullied you and actually _killed_ a little girl because you two were different and could talk to ghosts?" Dipper asked with shock, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel as he felt anger at the citizens of Blithe Hollow.

"Yeah," Norman replied morosely, a sullen look overtaking his face as he remembered his time back at Blithe Hollow.

Seeing the look on Norman's face, Dipper reached his hand out and patted Norman's left knee. "Well, you know what?" _I_ think you're _amazing_, what do the people in Blithe Hollow know?"

Finally, it was Norman's turn to be flustered and he blushed, never having been complimented as strongly and with such conviction before. He felt a warmth bubbling up from the pit of his stomach all the way up to his face.

"T-thanks," Norman replied in a soft whisper, Dipper barely being able to make out what he was saying. Norman and Dipper's knees were touching at this point, though neither of them noticed, both of them embarrassed by what Dipper had said to Norman.

After another 5 minutes, they arrived at Norman's motel, their hour-long journey (because Dipper opted for a more "scenic" route to spend more time with Norman) had come to an end. The two waited awkwardly in the cart, not knowing how to say goodbye, nor really wanting to. After a minute, however, Norman broke the silence.

"Hey Dipper?" Norman asked turning to face him.

"Yeah?" Dipper responded, also turning to face Norman, the two of them staring directly at each other.

"Thanks," Norman replied, reaching over to give Dipper another peck on his other cheek before he got out of the car and headed into the motel.

Dipper sat there in awe for another 5 minutes, tenderly touching the cheek Norman pecked as he realized that he'd gotten Norman to kiss him _twice_ that day. Once he finished processing that fact, he let out a celebratory "yes!" with a fist pump, before turning the golf cart back on and heading home.

Once he entered the motel, the front desk clerk waved Norman over, concerned about where'd he been for the past few days.

"Hey kid, you OK?" Blubs asked once Norman had arrived at the front desk, concern etched over his face "haven't seen you in a few days."

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine," Norman dismissed, but Blubs wasn't convinced.

"Your mouth says one thing, but _that,_" Blubs spat, gesturing to Norman's arm, "says another." Blubs finished, arching an eyebrow.

"Hmm?" Norman asked confusedly, eyes following the trajectory of Blubs' finger until it landed on the scrapes and bruises littering his body. "Oh, those, don't worry about it, they took good care of me back at the Mystery Shack."

"The Shack huh?" Blubs questioned, tapping a finger to his chin and tilting his head upward in a contemplative manner until remembering what he wanted to tell Norman. "Ah, that's right. Dipper came by a few days ago when you invited him, but you weren't here.

'When I invited him? When did I... I never invited him here. Why'd he come? Why'd he lie?' Norman mused. Still, not wanting to get his new friend in trouble, Norman played along. "O-Oh yeah, I totally forgot about inviting him here. But it's fine, we did end up meeting up anyway, in fact, he just dropped me off, just now."

Blubs internally breathed a sigh of relief, his decision to let Dipper into Norman's room without Norman's knowledge had been weighing down on him. Even though Dipper was a good kid, he shouldn't have just let him go into Norman's room like that.

"Well then, take it easy, kid" Blubs dismissed, ending the conversation.

Norman nodded and then made his way up the stairs to the third floor and to room #318 and entered. He switched on the lights and moved toward the table in the room and placed the book Dipper gave him down on top of it. He then took a glance around the room and quickly noticed that it was not as he left it. His laundry pile had been messed with, as had the sheets on his bed. He moved toward his bed to further examine the state of the sheets and noticed some stains on them. Norman's brows furrowed as he frowned, not sure about the origin of the stains. Were they always _this_ dirty?

"As dirty as this place is, those stains were _not_ on those sheets when you left," Grandma Babcock chimed in, answering Norman's unspoken question. As he continued to survey the state of his room, Norman sighed as he realized that he'd likely have to do laundry the next day, for the second time in less than a week. He decided to table the inspection of his room until tomorrow and opted to head to bed instead.

He stripped down to his boxers, flung his clothes—ripe from having wearing them for three days straight—in the laundry pile, turned off the light, and climbed into his bed, careful to avoid lying down on any of the stains. As he settled down and prepared to drift off to sleep, Norman started thinking about the last three days. He'd done it, he'd finally tracked the lead down to Stanford's cabin and managed to acquire his research on spectrals. 

But as excited as Norman was about finally getting Stanford's research on spectrals, he couldn't dwell on that subject for too long before his mind decided to switch over to what seemed to be its new favorite subject, Dipper. 

'What are the odds that Dipper would be related to Stanford? Or that he'd have the exact book I needed?' Norman mentally queried, as if he was trying to project his question to the universe for it to answer.

'Maybe it's fate,' Norman mused, chuckling amusedly to himself. He didn't usually believe in things like fate, despite his experience with the paranormal, but he _was _in Gravity Falls, one of the weirdest, and most wonderful places on Earth to the medium—finally, a place where he was far from the weirdest thing around—so he might as well throw away everything he thought he knew about the world.

Then Norman's thoughts turned towards Dipper getting in front of him and taking that blow to save him. 'Nobody's ever done _anything_ like that for me before,' Norman thought, a smile overtaking his face and a warm feeling pooling in his stomach at the thought. His thoughts then shifted, thinking of how Dipper "escorted" him back to the motel and the story Dipper told him about his summer in Gravity Falls.

'I thought he was just some weird stalker, but maybe he's not so bad after all,' were Norman's final thoughts as he drifted off to sleep


	8. Norman 𝐹𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 Learns Something About The Prendergh—Nevermind, Not Today

Norman woke up the next morning the same way he usually did, with the _very_ obvious exception of his massive case of morning wood. However, he felt far too exhausted to do anything about it and decided that he'd deal with the problem with a cold shower. However, as his mind woke up more, he remembered that there was no shower in his room and that there was no way that he could go downstairs to the showers looking as _indecent_ as he did, so he sighed and decided to wait until his erection flagged before he went downstairs. 

After waiting a few minutes, his "problem" had subsided somewhat, enough to allow him to tuck his dick into his boxers, but on a pair of used pants and a sweatshirt, and head downstairs to take a shower. He gathered his bathing supplies and exited the room and made his way to the ground floor. He tossed a casual greeting to Blubs, who nodded back at him, glad to see that the kid was doing fine, after all.

Norman entered the shower area, undressed until he was fully naked, put his clothes in a locker, and then headed over to the shower area and began showering. As he washed, Norman began to think of Dipper again, more specifically the time they inadvertently shared a masturbation session. While he had no intent to think about Dipper in that way, he couldn't help the association his brain made, and, before long, Norman was as hard as he was that morning.

But Norman still wasn't in the mood to deal with the problem, he wanted to get through everything he had to do so that he could start looking into the book Dipper left and hopefully find clues about the Prenderghasts. So he reached over to the dial on the wall and turned it to the right, drastically chilling the temperature of the water. The cold shower had the desired effect for Norman and quickly chased away his reawakened erection, and forcing Norman to quickly finish his shower. 

Norman walked out of the shower area, rubbing his shoulders with his hands, shivering. 'Never doing _that_ again,' Norman lamented, decided that effectiveness of the "remedy" was not worth freezing for. He toweled off and changed into a clean pair of clothes and left the shower and went back to his room. 

As eager as he was to crack open the book and get started, upon entering his room, Norman was reminded that he still had laundry to do. He let out a long-suffering as he put off reading the book until later divested his bed of its sheets and then put the rest of his laundry on top of the sheets and then bundled the sheets up, using them as a makeshift hamper. He trudged over to the laundry room, put his laundry in the washing machine and started it. He then went to one of the benches, sat down, and after 5 minutes he dozed off.

After an hour and a half, he was woken up by his grandmother shouting at him to get up and put his clothes in the dryer and dozed off for another 55 minutes before his grandmother woke him again to retrieve his clothes. He took his clothes from the dryer and carried them back to his room.

After making his bed and storing away his clothes, Norman was ready to start on the book. He made his way to the desk in his room, sat down, and opened the book, ready to read.

15 minutes into his reading session, Norman realized that he was still on the first page and had read the first few paragraphs a dozen times, yet still had no idea what the contents were. He shut the book in frustration and retreated to his bed, flopping down on it, back first, as he stared up at the ceiling, bemoaning his inability to read the book. He knew why and glared downward at the culprit. Norman's member, long unattended, was standing at attention, yet again. Between his neglected dick and his unending thoughts about Dipper, Norman was not able to focus on anything else.

Realizing that he wouldn't be able to get anything done until he dealt with his arousal once and for all, Norman stood up and took his pants and boxers off, leaving him naked from the bottom down. He plopped back down on the bed and took his half-hard 7-inches into his hand and started slowly stroking himself. However, while the stimulation provided a pleasurable feeling to Norman, it brought him no closer to the climax he was going for.

He noticed that the position he was in wasn't the most comfortable, and suspected that to be the reason why. So he sat up and shuffled himself until he was sitting up, back against the wall, and then resumed stroking. It had the desired effect, the pleasure increased, and his dick hardened a little more bringing him up to 8 inches. 

Trying to keep the trend going, Norman closed his eyes, not wanting his vision to get in the way of his session. Without ocular images to focus on, the medium's mind quickly conjured up mental images of Dipper. Engrossed in the pleasure and his single-minded goal to get off as soon as possible, Norman opted to stop blocking those thoughts and let them flow at him, the imagery proving very conducive to his goal. The images started innocent, mostly from what little he remembered of his first encounter with him and the drive he took with him, recalling how adorable his smile was. 

Then his thoughts entered more perverted territory, shifting toward the time they shared a shower and their inadvertent joined masturbation session. Norman found himself regretting that his eyes were closed and that he missed most of Dipper's session. He started to picture how Dipper might do it to himself. He imagined Dipper go about it like he would a mystery. He would start slow, tentatively stroking himself as he tried to get a feel for what provoked the best reaction. Then, Norman imagined, once Dipper found a rhythm or technique he liked, he'd doggedly pursue it. The Dipper in his mind started to rapidly escalate the pace of his stroking, Norman's hand doing the same as he subconsciously matched imaginary Dipper's pace. He pictured the adorable flush on Dipper's face that he remembered seeing when he opened his eyes and noticed that Dipper had just come, same as he did. 

He imagined a different scenario for the shower, where instead of them jerking off separately, Norman walked over to Dipper, mid-stroke and replaced Dipper's hand with his own. Imaginary Dipper's eyes immediately opened and he noticed imaginary Norman was stroking him and immediately started to blush. Imaginary Norman gave a predatory grin at the sight of the blush and increased the tempo of his strokes, causing imaginary Dipper to cry out and moan as the pleasure overwhelmed him.

Meanwhile, the real Norman is fully hard and has started dribbling pre-cum. His strokes become increasingly irregular as the pre-cum makes his hand occasionally glide across instead of stroke his dick. But these facts were lost to Norman as he was too engrossed in his fantasy of Dipper. With imaginary Norman's rough and quick pace, imaginary Dipper was quickly brought to orgasm, body convulsing in imaginary Norman's hold as he did so before collapsing limply to his knees on the floor after imaginary Norman let him go.

But imaginary Norman wasn't done with Dipper, and he took advantage of Dipper's position on his knees to move his hips until he was poking imaginary Dipper's mouth with his fully hard and dripping cock. As imaginary Dipper opened his mouth in protest, imaginary Norman took advantage of the opening and slammed his entire length into imaginary Dipper's open mouth, hitting the back of his throat and causing a bulge. While, under normal circumstances, Norman would feel bad and put a stop to what he was doing immediately, this was a fantasy, and Norman had no qualms letting his dream self choke Dipper on his cock. The real Norman's strokes increased rapidly and he started to thrust his hips into the air, fucking his hand like he aimed to do to the dream Dipper's mouth, relishing the flustered and desperate look on his face as dream Dipper sputtered and struggled to breathe, let alone take in dream Norman's cock.

Dream Norman started taking executing shallow thrusts into dream Dipper's mouth but rapidly picked up speed, quickly getting to the point where he was skullfucking dream Dipper, the real Norman's thrust also picking speed as he watched tears stream down imaginary Dipper's face. But this only brought Norman closer to climax and his dream self buried his cock as deep down dream Dipper's throat as he came, while the real Norman came, with such force that the first few shots landed on the wall behind him that he was bracing himself against.

As his dream sequence faded and Norman came back to reality, he felt immensely guilty about how he had treated the imaginary Dipper in his fantasy, feeling sick about how he got off on his struggling. He spent a few minutes rationalizing to himself that it was a fantasy and not reflective of how he'd _actually _act if he ever got with Dipper for real. Yet, deep down, he doubted this and felt that this was just another weird thing about his already weird self. 

Just in time for his thoughts to head into a self-deprecating spiral, there was a knock on his door.

"Who is it?" Norman called out loudly, hoping to be heard by whoever was standing on the other side.

"It's me," a familiar voice called back.

Figuring that the person outside his door would want to be let in, Norman sprung into action, setting aside his negative thoughts and focusing on the task of making sure he and the room were presentable before he let the other person in.

Once he was as satisfied as one could be with a two-minute cleanup job, making sure to straighten out the bed and clean up all the semen, including on the walls, Norman opened the door to reveal Dipper standing on the other side.

"Hey, I just wanted to uhhhhh..." Dipper said, quickly trailing off.

"Uhhhh...what? Hello?" Norman said, waving his hand in front of Dipper, curious as to what was going on with Dipper now.

Dipper just blushed a bright red, and thrust something into Norman's hands and then blurted out, "IjustwantedtogiveyouthistohelpyoureadGrunkleFord'sbookbye," in a hurry before he turned and rapidly made his way to the stairs.

"What was that about?" Norman thought aloud before he felt a draft and got a sinking feeling as he looked down to confirm that, yep, he'd forgot to put his underwear and pants back on, and yep, he'd just unintentionally flashed Dipper with his "third leg". He quickly shut the door, before jumping into bed and burying his face in his pillow. First the weird dream about Dipper, now this. What was going on with him? Norman silently lamented.

* * *

Dipper arrived back at the Mystery Shack, still in a daze from what he saw. He was so preoccupied with thoughts of Norman that aside from a non-committal "hey" to Wendy, Soos, and Mabel when they greeted him, he totally ignored them and headed straight to his room.

He locked the door and frantically pulled down his pants and briefs halfway, braced himself against the wall, closed his eyes, and tried to picture what he had seen at Norman's room as clearly as possible. He imagined a scenario where instead of him just freezing up before unceremoniously giving his "gift", he got down and finally answered his long-burning question of what Norman's cock tasted like and started rapidly stroking himself, cumming just a few strokes in, he was on _that _much of a hair-trigger from seeing Norman like that. 

Not bothering to put his briefs and pants back on, Dipper went over to his bed and plopped down on it. His mind still filled with nothing but Norman, _Norman, _**_NORMAN_**. After fifteen minutes of this, Dipper had made up his mind. He stood up as he resolved to himself that he _would_ get to date him, or, at the very least, let him taste that magnificent tool of his at least once. 

He knew he couldn't do this by himself, and that he needed an _expert_ to help him through this one. So Dipper put his briefs and pants back on, choked down his pride and trepidation, and made his way to the room of the one person he knew could help him. He knocked on the door.

"Yeah?" the room's inhabitant called out.

"It's me," Dipper responded, before taking a deep sigh and mumbling "I need your help with something," almost hoping the person on the other side of the door and he could still call this off. 

But no such luck, and Dipper could hear footsteps as someone came to unlock the door and then went back to their chair and called out "IT'S UNLOCKED!"

Dipper gave another long-suffering sigh before he opened the door and entered the room. Upon hearing that Dipper had entered their room, the other occupant of the room spun around in her swivel chair to face a Dipper standing in the middle of her room, awkwardly.

"So," she said, a wide grin overtaking her face, "what can I help you with? Bro-bro," Mabel asked.

**Author's Note:**

> We will be posting a new chapter every week on Sunday so stay tuned and enjoy^^
> 
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